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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 










































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CHOH LIN, 


Chinese §05 tojjo §tcamc a JreatJer. 


BY THE 

Rev. J. A. DAVIS, 

*? 

Author of the u Chinese Slave-Girl,” “ Tom Bard,” etc. 




a '», 

iR 2 1885 

r 'r y ^ 5 V 6 


PHILADELPHIA : 

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, 

1334 CHESTNUT STREET. 




COPYRIGHT, 1884, BY 

THE TRUSTEES OF THE 

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION. 


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 


Westcott k Thomson, 

Stercolypcrs and Elcclrotypcrs , Philada . 


IS HIS l&OOK 

(pr 


$\£Sj?£ctfuUjr Bebicatcb, Init^out l^cir Jinofolebge, 


TO THE 


Rev. Drs. TALMAGE, RAPALJE and KIP, 

OF THE AMOY MISSION — 


MEN OF WHOM THE REFORMED CHURCH MAY JUSTLY BE I'ROUD. 


Their judicious, quiet, persistent, yet modest efforts for the temporal 
as well as spiritual good of those around them will, by the 
grace of God, live and grow to bless those in and around 
Amoy as long as the Chinese remain a people. 







































































































PREFACE. 


This is a true story of a real Chinese boy who 
became a preacher. Choh Lin is, and has been, 
a preacher of the gospel for more than twenty 
years, and for most of that time connected with the 
Amoy mission of the Reformed (Dutch) Church 
in America. 

When the writer was living in Amoy he took 
down from Choh Lin's own lips the most of the 
facts here given, and since his return to America 
has written up the notes thus gathered, adding facts 
that came to him through other sources. So it is 
a true story. The real name of Choh Lin, for 
satisfactory reasons is not given. 

Parts of the first chapters of this story were 
written for and published in The Sower , and at 


6 


PREFACE . 


the request of not a few readers it is completed 
and sent out in this form, with the hope and prayer 
of the writer that it may lead many of our young 
people to think of and to pray and work more 
heartily for, missions in China. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

The Chinese Baby 11 

CHAPTER II. 

The Child of the Gods 16 

CHAPTER III. 

A Little Boy Lost 22 

CHAPTER IV. 

Learning to Worship Idols 30 

CHAPTER V. 

The Sick Father 37 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Father’s Death 46 

7 


8 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VII. 

PAGE 

The Funeral 53 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Cruel Relatives 60 

CHAPTER IX. 

Seeking a Life-giving God 72 

CHAPTER X. 

Poverty 81 

CHAPTER XI. 

The Famine 92 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Dogs 100 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Boys’ Troubles 110 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Choh Lin at School 123 

CHAPTER XV. 


Stoning the Devil 


133 


CONTENTS. 9 

CHAPTER XVI. 

PAGE 

Rebellion at Amoy 143 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Mrs. Lee Finds the Life-giving God 155 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Persecution 169 

CHAPTER XIX. 

In Amoy 185 

\ 

CHAPTER XX. 

In the Mission-School 195 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Trying to be a Christian 210 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Business Offers 220 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

A New Relative 233 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Becoming a Preacher 244 


10 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

PAGK 

Chi Lap and the Grandmother become Christians 256 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Choh Lin Married and a Preacher 268 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

The Gospel at Tay Soa 281 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Settled at Ang Tung Thau 294 

CHAPTER XXIX. 


Trials of a Pastor 


307 


Choh Lin. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE CHINESE BABY. 

BOUT forty years ago there lived in China, in 



a little village standing on a bay of the ocean, 
a Chinaman named Sol Law Lee. The village in 
which Mr. Lee lived was at the foot of a mountain, 
and so was named Tay Soa, or “ Foot Mountain.” 
He was the richest man in the place and had the 
finest house there, yet if you had seen it you would 
have thought that it was only a number of out- 
houses for cattle, connected by two walls. 

One day there was born in this house a boy- baby. 
Mr. and Mrs. Lee were very proud of their little 
son, and when the father met friends on the street 
or at his place of business he was glad to have them 
bow and, as they clasped and shook their own 
hands, say to him, “ Ka li kiong-hi ” (“ unto you 
congratulations”). When the little fellow had lived 
a whole month his relatives and friends from the 
village and the other places around gathered at Mr. 
Lee’s house to see the new-comer and to have a 


ii 


12 


CHOH LIN 


grand feast in his honor, as well as to be present at 
the ceremony of shaving the child’s head. Each 
brought some present for the little fellow or his 
parents. There were fowls and fruit and many 
other things to eat, and among them twenty duck 
eggs painted in pretty colors. Some had brought 
money ; two or three brought silver rings, not for 
the fingers, but for the wrists and ankles of the 
baby: one of these ankle-rings had a tiny silver 
bell fastened to it to jingle when he moved his feet. 
His grandmother gave some clothing for him to 
wear and a queer little cap, beautifully embroidered 
with red and yellow silk, to put on his head. The 
visitors gave many presents, because they expected 
Mr. Lee, as he was rich, to give them many in re- 
turn, and better, too, than they gave. 

When all of the friends had enjoyed the first 
part of the feast, the little boy was brought into 
the room. He was not a beauty. His little head 
was covered with silky black hair ; his nose was as 
flat and small as though his nurse had let him fall 
on it ; and the little black eyes seemed to be looking 
down to see where the nose had gone. Around 
each wrist a red cord was tied, to keep the spirit of 
mischief from getting loose and making the hands 
do bad things when the boy grew up. 

When the little child made his appearance one 
and another of the people said, “ Pretty,” “ Very 
pretty,” “ Smart,” “ Brave,” and other pleasant 
things for the parents to hear. 


THE CHINESE BABY . 


13 


But now came the great event of the feast. A 
barber was brought in, and with his little three- 
cornered razor shaved off the hair from the baby’s 
head, leaving it entirely bald. Of course this was 
not what the child liked, but Chinese babies must 
soon learn that grown people have strange ways. 
As the men and boys in China have all but the 
back part of their heads shaved, the little baby had 
to begin some time. 

The Chinese do not shave their heads because 
they are heathen, but because the nation has been 
conquered by the Mantchu Tartars, who forced them 
to follow the Tartar way of shaving the head and 
braiding the hair. 

When the barber had gone the father gave to the 
bald-headed little fellow a name. Since the first 
name given usually wears out or gives place to 
another as soon as boys are large enough to go to 
school, we will call the little boy by the name that 
was given him a few years after. This was Chhoh 
Lin : we will write it Choh Lin. 

Three months after this “ feast of shaving the 
child’s head ” invitations were sent out again to 
the relatives and friends. As before, they brought 
presents for the little fellow. Chief among these 
gifts were a red chair and some molasses candy. 
Does some girl or boy say, “ I wish I were a Chi- 
nese baby if he can get plenty of molasses candy ” ? 
Wait and see how it was used. The candy was 
warmed and put on the seat of the chair, and then 


14 


CHOH LIN. 


the little fellow, dressed in his nice clothing, was 
placed on the candy in the seat. It was used to 
keep him from falling off ! 

But a more important ceremony took place at 
this feast. The presents were all placed before the 
image of the goddess of children. Mr. Lee bowed 
before this idol and prayed the goddess to take care 
of his little boy, to make him good-natured, to 
make him stay awake in the daytime and sleep 
well at night, to keep him from crying and to keep 
him well. When they supposed that the goddess 
had sufficiently enjoyed the presents, all were taken 
away and a feast made of those that could be eaten. 

When Choh Lin’s birthday came, then a greater 
feast still was prepared and more presents brought. 
After the friends had gathered, a large sieve was 
placed on the table before an ancestral tablet. This 
is a piece of carved wood standing in a carved 
block. Into this upright piece was cut the name 
of Mr. Lee’s father, who had died many years be- 
fore. The Chinese believe that the souls of their 
dead friends enter into these tablets of wood and live 
in them for a long while. On the sieve were placed 
some silver ornaments, scissors, ink and pen, a book 
or two, a money-scale, a small boat, tools, and other 
things. Then the little boy, dressed in a new suit 
of clothes, was placed on the sieve among the things. 
The Chinese think that whatever a child at this time 
first grasps will show the business he will follow 
when he becomes a man. Choh Lin took an 


THE CHINESE BABY. 


15 


orange, so some thought that he would be a farmer, 
and others that he would like eating better than 
anything else. 

At the feast following this ceremony the little 
boy had a dish prepared for him of which no one 
else was allowed to eat — a soup made from chicken 
feet. This soup was to make him walk soon and 
become a first-rate runner. 

The little child was taken each time before the 
idols and the ancestral tablet, and made to hold up 
his hands and bow his head as if praying to them. 
Thus, when only a baby Choh Lin was made an 
idolater and a worshiper of the spirits of the dead. 
How could he help growing up a heathen ? He 
was taught to serve these false gods only, and no 
one told him to say, “Our Father which art in 
heaven ” or to pray to Jesus. Nobody living near 
his home knew about the true God ; none had heard 
of Jesus ; and yet it is but little more than forty 
years since Choh Lin was born. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE CHILD OF THE GODS. 

HEN Choh Lin had passed his first birthday 



" * his grandmother embroidered for him a red 
woolen cloth w T ith bright-colored silk, yet when it 
was finished she did not give it to the little boy, 
but gave it instead to his mother. She took it 
to an idol temple, and from the incense-box or pot 
standing before the idol gathered some of the ashes 
made by burning incense to the god. This was 
carefully placed in the cloth, and then, rolling it 
up, she sewed the ashes tightly within. On the 
outside of this little bundle the name of the god 
was stamped. The package was then brought home 
and hung by a silver chain about the little fellow’s 
neck. Choh Lin had now been consecrated to the 
idol. He might pray to other images, but his own 
idol must receive the first and most of his service. 
By carrying with him the incense-ashes his friends 
hoped that the child would get the god’s spirit. 
The Chinese suppose that the spirit of the idol 
enters the ashes and lives there to do good to those 
who carry it. Not only was Choh Lin to be the 
child of this god, but the god was expected to take 


16 


THE CHILD OF THE GODS. 


17 


care of the boy, to watch over him, hear his prayers 
and do him every favor that the child needed or the 
god could give. Though these bundles of ashes 
are not worn through life, yet they are usually not 
laid aside until, to the Chinese eye, they become 
quite unclean ; and when the Chinese think a thing 
is dirty they are generally right. 

When Choh Lin began to walk it was the cause 
of great rejoicing in the Lee household. As he 
toddled three or four steps without falling, one of 
the family took a large knife and, with the edge 
downward, cut down to the floor between his feet, 
and then again behind them, as though to cut some- 
thing that hindered his movements. Of course the 
knife did not touch him, but was supposed to cut 
off some invisible cords that made him fall. 

Choh Lin was not as strong a child as his older 
brother, Chi Lap, and the mother and father were 
very much afraid that their little boy would not 
grow to be a man. They thought that evil spirits 
were making their child weak, and would after a 
while kill him. To drive away the evil ones they 
determined on a ceremony that was supposed to 
have a great effect on a child’s health. 

Several priests were invited to the house, who 
made a kind of altar of the tables, one on the top 
of the other ; and on the top one they placed can- 
dlesticks, censers and images of the gods, chief 
among them the goddess of children. On a table 
in another part of the room they placed several 
2 


18 


CHOH LIN. 


plates with different kinds of meat, fruits and cakes. 
When all was ready one priest rang a bell, another 
beat a drum, another struck on cymbals, and all 
together chanted something which, with their mu- 
sic, was intended to invite a number of gods or 
goddesses of children to the house and to a feast. 
To describe the whole of the ceremony would take 
too long, so we relate only the last part of it, which 
is the most important. A framework to repre- 
sent an open door was set up in the room. One 
of the priests, dressed to represent the goddess of 
children, stood beside this door and repeated some 
words to frighten the evil spirits away. While he 
was doing this Mr. Lee took up his little son and 
gathered his other children around him. Each 
of the children held a lighted incense-stick, and all 
■were ready for the great ceremony of frightening 
the evil spirits so that they would not dare trouble 
Choh Lin again. Then one of the priests began 
blowing a horn, and, with this in one hand and a 
sword in the other, he slowly marched through the 
door. Mr. Lee, with Choh Lin in his arms and 
followed by his children, passed through the door 
after the priest, while the other priests made all the 
noise they could with bells, cymbals and drums. In 
this way they felt sure that little Choh Lin would 
be made well and strong. When this ceremony 
was over the frame through which the little boy 
was carried was cut to pieces and burned. This 
ceremony is called “ passing through the door.” 


THE CHILD OF THE GODS. 


19 


The Chinese probably think that by taking the 
sick child through the door during the frightful 
noises the evil spirits are kept back from the little 
one, and then when the door is destroyed they can- 
not find it to pass through in order to overtake the 
child. 

Choh Lin’s parents took another method of keep- 
ing evil ones away from their child. They called 
him “ beggar,” “ dirty,” “ useless,” because they 
hoped that the evil spirits, if they heard how the 
little fellow was spoken of, would think that no 
one aired much for him, and so would let him live : 
thus trying to cheat the evil ones. 

On his second birthday Choh Lin was honored 
with another party, and children, especially those 
who would probably be his companions as he grew 
up, were invited. 

Some months after his second birthday Choh 
Lin’s older sister, a girl of ten years, became very 
sick. She was his best nurse, and he missed her 
very much. Whenever he could he would go to 
her room and try to coax her to get up and play 
with him. Doctors were called, and gave many 
and strange medicines. Prayers to the spirits of 
dead ancestors were offered, idol temples were vis- 
ited, presents given to the gods, and many things 
done to drive away the disease, but the child grew 
worse. One day, when it became evident that she 
must die, she looked upward, and, with her hands 
reaching up, prayed, u O Heaven, do not take me 


20 


CHOH LIN 


away from my little brother! Save me; let me 
live that I may watch over him. If I go away 
he will not have his sister to care for him.” She 
pleaded to live, not that she might enjoy life, but 
that she might care for her little brother. Not 
long before she died she asked for Clioh Lin, and 
when he was brought, “ Who will care now for my 
poor little boy ?” said she. “ He is so weak, and 
young too ! how can he get along without his sis- 
ter?” Then looking up, as though to a greater 
than man, she said, “ Heaven, take care of the little 
boy who must lose his sister. Father will die, and 
mother too must die. Please do not let the little 
brother suffer.” Then she was still, and those who 
stood by her said, “ She has passed on.” She was 
dead. She prayed to heaven, but did not know 
of Jesus; she could not pray to Him of whom no 
one had told her. 

As Choli Lin did not become strong, even though 
the grand ceremony of “ passing through the door” 
had been attended to, his father and mother deter- 
mined to try another ceremony. The fourteenth or 
fifteenth day of the eighth month is often observed 
in some parts of China as a day of special ceremony 
for the good of children. Sometimes this ceremony 
is observed on the birthday of a child, and occasion- 
ally too for the good of grown people when sick. 
The ceremony is called “ worshiping the measure.” 
This they decided to try. So on the fourteenth day 
of the eighth month a table was set in the house 


THE CHILD OF THE GODS. 


21 


with various kinds of food on it, and a square box 
for measuring rice. In this measure, which was 
half full of rice, a set of money-scales, a pair of 
scissors, a foot-measure and a small mirror of metal 
were placed, one article in each corner. A small 
wooden image to represent Choh Lin, an incense- 
stick, an oil lamp, a candle or two and ten chop- 
sticks were also placed in this rice-measure. When 
all things were arranged a single priest came into 
the room and chanted a form of words intended to 
win the favor of the gods, but more especially of 
the two gods of long life and prosperity. The 
things on the table were partly an offering to these 
gods, and partly to show the wishes of the people 
for their children. The priest was supposed to have 
an influence with these gods, and the offerings were 
designed to persuade them to give Choh Lin great 
favors, the two chief ones being long life and plenty 
of money. This ceremony is called “ worshiping 
the measure ” probably because these two gods are 
thought to hold the measure of years and the meas- 
ure of wealth. There are many more things con- 
nected with this worship whose object the Chinese 
do not seem to understand. They perform these 
ceremonies, as they do many other things, because 
their fathers did so before them. 


CHAPTER III. 


A LITTLE BOY LOST. 

T HREE years of age ! What a man Choh Lin 
felt himself to be ! Three years had passed 
very slowly to him, though he did not remember 
much of them. He knew that he was no longer a 
baby, but a boy, halfway to being a man ; that was 
enough. He walked around in his loose trousers 
and little coat as proud of his growing age and 
size as though he were a man already. He was 
glad to tell how old he was, but in this he did not 
differ from other boys the world over. Chinese are 
always willing to tell their ages. It has probably 
never happened in China that a young lady who 
has had more than thirty birthdays is not more than 
eighteen years old. Such things do seem possible 
in some other countries. 

Just after the Chinese New Year, which occurs 
in our February, a man asked Choh Lin, “This 
year, how old ?” — “ Five years” said he. — How 
proud the little fellow was to hear the man say, 
“What! so old? You will soon be a man”! 

Five years old ? Did Choh Lin tell an untruth ? 
He had not yet reached his fourth birthday ; why, 
22 


A LITTLE BOY LOST. 


23 


then, did he say that he was five years old ? But 
Choh Lin did not tell an untruth. According to 
Chinese methods of counting age, Choh Lin was 
five years old, though he had had only three birth- 
days and had not lived four full years. The Chi- 
nese do not reckon age by birthdays, but by the 
years in which a person has lived. Every one is a 
year older there on New Year’s Day than he was 
the day before. All the Chinese “ take their age ” 
on the same day. It thus happens that infants born 
on the last day of the old year are two years old on 
New Year’s morning, even though they have not 
been in the world twenty-four hours. When a 
Chinaman is asked how old he is, he understands 
the question to mean, In how many years have you 
lived? 

After Choh Lin became thus “ five years old ” he 
thought that he was large enough to, go around 
without having somebody to watch him. So, call- 
ing one of the large dogs, as hje had often seen his 
brother, Chi Lap, do, he started for a walk. No 
one noticed him, and soon he was out of the place 
and had gone over a hill behind the village. Every- 
thing was strange to him, and he did not know 
which way to go. Strange men were walking in 
the field before him ; he was afraid to go farther. 
Turning around, he tried to find the way home, but 
took the wrong course. The farther he went the 
more afraid he became, until he could not keep back 
the tears ; then came the low cry, “ Mother ! mother!” 


24 


CHOH LIN 


How he longed to be home ! He forgot now that 
he would soon be a man ; he was willing to be called 
a baby again if he might but reach home, where 
mother, father, brother and sister were. Afraid of 
the strange men, he neither dared go to them and 
ask to be taken home, nor even to cry aloud. He 
walked on and on, calling softly every few steps 
to his mother. By his side the large dog walked 
slowly, every little while looking into his young 
master’s face as though he wanted to tell him what 
to do, but could not say it. After going for a long 
distance the little fellow sat down to rest. The dog 
lay down beside him. Tired little Choh Lin laid 
his head on the dog, and was soon fast asleep, and 
there he lay with the dog as a pillow for several 
hours. 

Choh Lin had not been away very long before 
he was missed in his home. But as Chi Lap was 
away, it was supposed that the two boys had gone 
out into the streets for a while, and would be back 
by noon. AVhen noon-time came Chi Lap returned, 
but not Choh Lin. Mr. Lee came in soon after, 
and was asked if he had taken his little boy out 
with him to his business. But Mr. Lee had not 
seen Choh Lin. The child was lost ! No dinner 
was eaten. It seemed almost impossible that the 
child should have strayed away and not be noticed 
by anybody. A dark suspicion crossed Mr. Lee’s 
mind. Perhaps somebody had stolen his boy ! He 
sent all of his hired men and every one whom he 


A LITTLE BOY LOST. 


25 


could get to search over the country and learn if 
any one had been seen carrying his child away. 
He himself, taking Chi Lap with him to be certain 
that no one stole his older boy, started off, away 
from the rest, to look for the child. Chi Lap called 
his dog to follow. 

While the men were searching for Choh Lin the 
women of the household were rushing around from 
one neighbor’s house to another asking if they had 
seen anything of the little boy. But the mother 
went at once to the temple and the idol to whom 
Choh Lin had been consecrated, and told the god 
her mournful story. She accused him of neglecting 
his child, and then begged him to bring back her 
boy or to tell the men where he was. She promised, 
if the god would see that the child was brought 
back that day, a feast should in due time be pre- 
sented to the idol. After her prayers were com- 
pleted she “ drew lots ” to see what the answer of 
the god would be. But when she drew the paper 
that was supposed to contain the answer, she was 
unable to understand its meaning. One character, 
or word, seemed to be the one meaning “ find,” and 
from this she at least hoped that the god’s answer 
was favorable and the child would be found. With 
this hope she returned home. No Choh Lin there ; 
no news about him. 

We need not describe her sorrow nor yet the 
search of the men. After they had gone out of 
sight of the village and of Mr. Lee they separated 


26 


CHOH IAN 


as he had told them, but each one moved slowly 
and lazily along. They went by various paths 
leading from the village, but the father and brother 
started across the fields, to reach by a short cut a 
village that stood on the water some miles away. 
Mr. Lee thought that if his child had been stolen, 
it had been taken to that town to start from there 
with some vessel. After going for several miles, 
and when not very far away from the village, Chi 
Lap’s dog began to bark at some bird that he saw. 
His bark was answered by that of another dog in 
the edge of a grain-field. 

“ Oh, father !” said the boy, “ that’s Kailo, our 
dog. Let us go to him ; it may be that Choh Lin 
is with him.” 

Chi Lap’s dog barked in answer to the other, and 
ran toward the field of grain. Mr. Lee and his 
boy followed as quickly as they could, and there, 
just awakening from his sleep, was little Choh Lin 
with his head resting on his hand and his elbow on 
Kailo. The barking of the dog had awakened the 
little boy. Though Kailo wanted to go to meet his 
friends, he felt that it was his duty to take care of 
his young master first. Had the dog not stayed 
with Choh Lin, Mr. Lee might not have found his 
boy. 

It would be hard to say who was the happiest at 
the meeting, but Mr. Lee lost no time in carrying 
the little fellow to his home. 

Before many days the mother’s promise to the 


A LITTLE BOY LOST. 


27 


idol was kept and a feast set before him. Instead 
of eating the food themselves or giving it to the 
priests, the Lee family gave it, after the god had, 
as they supposed, feasted on the spirit of the food, 
to some poor people. These people, eating the first 
real good meal they had enjoyed for years, felt very 
thankful, so they said, that Choh Lin had been 
found, and they felt a wish — but this they did not 
tell — that he might be lost and found often. 

That night his grandmother felt that Choh Lin 
ought to be taken to the temple to offer thanks him- 
self to the god. Just after sunset she took some 
incense-sticks in one hand, and, leading the little 
boy with the other, brought him before the idol to 
whom he belonged. There she taught him to light 
the incense-sticks and set them in the box before 
the idol ; and while they were slowly burning she 
told him to kneel to the god and with hands folded 
bow his head before the idol, to show that he was 
thankful for being saved. He tried to do as his 
grandmother bade him, and said not a word until 
they were going home from the temple. Then he 
asked, “ Grandmother, did that god take care of me 
when I was lost?” 

“ Yes,” said the old lady ; “ he is a good god for 
bringing our little boy back again to us.” 

“ But why did he not keep me from going away, 
and then he need not have brought me back?” 
asked the child. 

“ You ran away of yourself, and the god watched 


28 


CHOH LIN. 


that you did not go so far that no one could find 
you.” 

“ Could he not have watched me just as well at 
home ? I was so tired, and that is the reason I did 
not go farther. Did the god make me tired ?” 

“No, but he showed your father where you 
were.” 

“Grandmother, it was Kailo that showed where 
I was; they were going past me.” 

“ But the god may have told the dog to bark. 
The god did take care of you, anyway, while you 
were asleep.” 

“ So did Kailo ; I slept with my head on him. 
Grandmother, if dogs can take care of us as well 
as gods, why do we worship gods only, and not 
dogs too?” 

“Do not talk so, my child. Dogs are only dogs. 
They die ; the gods always live. Dogs do not un- 
derstand when you pray to them, but the gods do.” 

“ But dogs can run and bark and bite, too ; gods 
cannot. They must stay where they are, like dead 
dogs.” 

“ Choh Lin, you must not speak so ; it is very 
wicked. What you see is only the idol that holds 
the spirit of the god. You cannot see a spirit. 
We worship not the idol, but the spirit in it. The 
spirit is like the wind ; you cannot see the wind.” 

“ But I can feel it.” 

“Not when it stands still. So you cannot see 
or feel the gods when they stand still. But you 


A LITTLE BOY LOST. 


29 


must be careful not to talk wickedly about the 
gods ; their spirits may be around you always, and 
if you speak against them they may hurt you ; they 
may make you sick or do you other injury, or, per- 
haps, even kill you or some of your friends.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


LEARNING TO WORSHIP IDOLS. 

C HOH LIN’S father now gave strict commands 
that the little fellow must not be allowed to go 
into the street alone at all, nor would his father take 
the little boy along with him to his business, lest he 
stray away again and be lost. Choh Lin thought 
this very trying. He had not many things with 
which to amuse himself, and, as his brother was at 
school most of the day, he did not know in what 
way to spend his time. Sometimes his mother told 
him stories and helped to amuse him, and often she 
told him about the gods and taught him to worship 
them. She took him very often to the idol temple, 
and taught him to pray, to offer incense and food, 
and how to learn, as she believed, whether or not 
the gods heard and would answer his prayer. 

There were in the temple several pairs of short 
roots of trees. These roots were flat on one side 
and round on the other, and both ends were nearly 
pointed. One way of finding out whether or not 
his prayer would be heard was to take a pair of 
these roots before the idol, and, after holding them 
together for a moment, let them drop to the floor. 
If they lay one with the flat and the other with the 

30 


LEARNING TO WORSHIP IDOLS. 


31 


round side up, his prayer would be answered ; but 
if both lay with the flat side down, his prayer would 
not be granted ; while if both lay with the flat side 
up, the god would not tell whether the prayer was 
to be heard or not. Sometimes when people wor- 
ship in the temples, and the roots do not fall right 
the first time, they try again until satisfied that the 
god means to hear the prayer. Of course that is 
not exactly fair, but the Chinese do not always treat 
their gods fairly. 

Mrs. Lee taught her boy another way by which 
he might not only learn the purpose of the god, 
but might get part of an answer to his petition. In 
the temple were many pieces of paper with a verse 
printed on each in red ink ; there were also as many 
small sticks of bamboo-wood as pieces of paper. 
Each piece of wood was numbered, as were the 
papers. Mrs. Lee taught her little boy to take a 
number of these sticks, and, putting them into a 
long round box, to kneel before the god, and after 
bowing and offering his prayer to shake the box 
until one of the sticks fell out. The number on 
this stick would give the number of the printed 
paper, and the verse on that would probably give 
some answer, or tell what would be the answer, to 
his prayer. 

Cboli Lin was very willing to go to the temple, 
and often asked his mother to take him to worship 
the gods. She was glad to see her little boy show 
so much interest in the worship of idols, and hoped 


32 


CHOH LIN . 


that he would grow up to be a faithful worshiper 
of the gods of China. 

At first the little fellow wanted to go to the tem- 
ple because that took him out into the streets, and 
sometimes, when his grandmother went to the tem- 
ple with him, she would take him for a long walk 
outside of the village after they had been to worship. 
He often talked of the gods and asked many ques- 
tions about them. He cared more for the god to 
whom he belonged than for any other, and his 
mother, as well as his grandmother, sometimes grew 
tired of answering his questions or saying to him, 
“I do not know.” 

One day, as he and his grandmother were taking 
a walk, he saw, far away, smoke arising. He did 
not know what caused it, and as his grandmother 
had told him not to ask so many questions, he did 
not dare say anything about it, but kept thinking 
and looking and wishing that he could go to the 
smoke and see what was there. His grandmother 
and mother had told him that he must pray to 
heaven and that there were good beings in heav- 
en ; so he thought at length that the far-away place 
from which he saw the smoke arise must be heaven, 
and that the smoke was caused by the people there 
cooking their rice for supper. 

Some days after, when he was told that heaven 
would take care of him, he replied, “ I am going 
there some time. I know where heaven is ; I saw it 
the other day.” 


LEARNING TO WORSHIP IDOLS. 


33 


“ You saw heaven ?” said his mother. “ How 
could you see heaven ?” 

“ Oh, I saw it. It is a great way off, but I saw 
it with my eyes.” 

“ You could not see heaven,” said his sister ; “ no 
one can : it is too far away.” 

“ Where did you see heaven ?” asked his grand- 
mother. 

"I saw it away off back of the hills, near the 
mountain. It was so far away that I could only 
see the smoke,” replied Choh Lin. 

“See the smoke?” laughed Chi Lap. “He has 
seen the clouds in the sky, that is all.” 

“No, it was no cloud; it was smoke,” answered 
the little boy. “ I know that it was smoke, and the 
people of heaven were busy cooking their rice.” 

Chi Lap laughed louder than ever as he said, 
“You saw the smoke over the hills near the moun- 
tain ; that is nothing but a limekiln, and men were 
burning lime there. Your heaven is not very far 
off, and it is not a very large place, either. If you 
pray to that kind of heaven, it will not do you 
much good. Limekiln-burners do not make a very 
good heaven.” 

Chi Lap’s laughing and the smile on the faces 
of the rest of the family made the little boy feel 
ashamed, and he began to cry. His mother took 
him on her lap, and soon quieted him as she told 
him that heaven was not on this earth, but in the 
sky somewhere, and far above the clouds, where no 


34 


CHOH UN 


one could see it. To all of his questions about 
heaven she could only say, “ We do not know much 
about it. It is a good place, and takes care of the 
good people on earth who pray to it.” 

Then she told him something that made the little 
fellow ask a great many more questions. “ On the 
fifth night of the first month of the new year,” she 
said, “ heaven is opened and a beautiful angel comes 
out in the sky. This angel is clothed in red and is 
surrounded by light. Whoever sees this angel and 
asks any favor will receive what is asked for. Now, 
if you will stay up on the night when the angel ap- 
pears, and ask a favor of heaven, you will get it.” * 

“ Does the angel appear only once each year ?” 
asked Choh Lin. 

“ Yes, only once, and he is not always seen when 
he does come. Somtimes he comes when people 
are all asleep.” 

“ Why do they not stay up to see him ?” asked 
the child. 

“ Because many do not care enough for heaven’s 
favors ; and, besides, not every one can see the angel 
when he does appear.” 

“Who cannot see him?” asked Choh Lin. 
“ Could I see him ?” 

* This tradition, told by the subject of this story to the 
writer, is probably not known generally in China. There is 
in it something that reminds us, especially when we consider 
chronologies, of the angels’ appearance in the sky at Bethlehem 
at the birth of Christ. 


LEARNING TO WORSHIP IDOLS. 


35 


“Yes, I hope so,” said his mother. “I think 
that you are good enough ; you worship the gods 
and are quite a good boy.” 

“ Why cannot some people see the angel ?” 

“ Because they are bad. Good people may see 
him, and bad ones, looking at the same time, will 
see nothing at all. So my little boy must be good 
if he would see the beautiful angel and get favors 
from him.” 

“ But, mother, can we see him if it be cloudy ?” 
asked Choh Lin. 

“ Yes ; he is so bright that he would shine 
through the clouds.” 

“Will he not hurt me? I am afraid to see 
him.” 

“ No ; he loves children if they are good.” 

“ Did you ever see the angel, mother?” asked the 
little boy. 

“ No; I looked two or three times and did not 
see him, and then, when people said that I was not 
good enough, I thought that it was true and did 
not look again.” 

“ You are good now. Why do not you look the 
next time the angel comes ?” 

“Perhaps I will, but grown people are not as 
good as little children who try to be good. If my 
little boy could see the angel he might ask him to 
make Choh Lin’s mother better, as well as to give 
Choh Lin favors.” 

“I will, mother,” said the child; “and do not 


36 


CHOH LIN. 


forget to tell me some days before the time, for I 
will try to be number-one good then. I want to 
see the angel and ask him for something.” 

“ What will you ask for, Choh Lin?” asked Chi 
Lap. 

“I will ask him to make Chi Lap good,” said 
the little boy ; “ I think that he needs it.” 

Chi Lap did not like the laugh that his little 
brother’s reply caused. He forgot that he had 
laughed at his brother a short time before. We 
forget if anything we say causes others pain ; we 
do not forget our own pain so quickly. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE SICK FATHER. 

Y EARS go as quickly in China as in America 
for old people, and about as slowly for chil- 
dren. The first five years of Choh Lin’s life were 
long ones, and to him it seemed that he never 
would grow to be a man. One day an old man 
told him that the boys who grew slowly became 
the strongest men, while those who grew up quick- 
ly were weak and died soon. This made the little 
fellow more contented, yet he would quite often 
stand by his brother and quietly measure to know 
whether Chi Lap was so very much larger. Chi 
Lap, who was several years older, seemed to the 
little boy to be almost a man already, and if he 
were as large he would be satisfied. 

He was a proud boy when Chi Lap gave him a 
new top and said that he might play with the older 
boys. A ring was marked on the ground and sev- 
eral boys were invited to bring their tops to spin in 
the ring. After Chi Lap and two or three others 
had spun their tops, and one or two were left lying 
in the ring, Choh Lin said, “ My turn now. Let 
me try.” He had the string wound around the top, 

37 


38 


CHOH LIN. 


and then threw it as he saw the others do, but it did 
not spin, and had to be left in the ring. Then one 
of the boys sent his own top into the ring and 
“ pegged ” Choh Lin’s so hard that the new top 
was split. The little fellow began to cry. This 
counted him out of the game at once, for a Chinese 
boy who cannot see his top broken without crying 
is not allowed to play. The little boy went home 
resolving that he would not spin tops again if the 
big boys must peg his new one the first thing, and 
then not let him play at all after that. He was be- 
ginning to learn that to be a big boy brought troubles 
that little boys could not well bear. 

Choh Lin had a little friend about his own age 
named Oan, whom he often visited. One day, as 
he came from worshiping the idol in the temple, he 
saw Oan, and while Mrs. Lee and Oan’s mother 
were talking the little boys had a talk by them- 
selves. 

“ I have been to the temple to worship my god,” 
said Choh Lin. “ What god do you have for yours, 
Oan ?” 

“ I have none,” said he. “ Grandmother and 
mother do not take me to the temple every day. 
Sometimes they take me along on the first or the 
fifteenth of the moon, but I don’t want to go 
often.” 

“ I like to go,” said Choh Lin ; “ I want the god 
to love me and take care of me and give me many 
things.” 


THE SICK FATHER. 


39 


“ Do the gods give you nice things? What do 
they give?” 

“ Oh, most anything you ask for, so mother 
says.” 

“Did they give you that new top that Jim broke 
the other day ?” 

“ No ; Chi Lap gave me that.” 

“ What has your god ever given you ?” 

“ He has not given much yet, but he will some 
day, mother says. She told me that the gods and 
the spirits have given my father all of his things.” 

“ Didn’t he buy them ?” 

“ Yes, but the gods gave him the money or helped 
him get it.” 

“ If the gods do that, then I mean to worship 
them too, and ask my father to worship them, for 
he told me that he had no money when I wanted 
him to buy me a dog. Did the gods give you your 
dogs ?” 

“No, they grew. Perhaps the gods did give 
them when they were very small, and the dogs 
grew the rest.” 

“ How long will it take to get things that way ?” 

“ I don’t know ; mother says we must keep wor- 
shiping, and then the gods will always be giving us 
good things.” 

“Come, Choh Lin,” said his mother, “ we will 
go home.” 

At home they found Mr. Lee lying down in the 
house. He had just come back from a business-trip 


40 


CHOH LIN. 


that had taken him several days. When his wife 
and little boy came in he said to them, “ Yt>u must 
be very still, for my head aches very much and I 
have a fever. I am sick, very sick.” 

Mrs. Lee saw that her husband had a high fever, 
and sent for the doctor at once. Mr. Lee had never 
been so ill before. As soon as the doctor came Mrs. 
Lee met him at the door and told him that he must 
make Mr. Lee well soon or he would get no pay for 
his medicine and care ; but if the sick man was 
soon restored to health the doctor should have good 
pay.* 

Mrs. Lee was so anxious to see her husband cured 
that she did not ask about the price of medicine, 
but only that he be made well very soon. 

When the doctor came to Mr. Lee’s bed he sat 
down on a chair, and, putting on a very large pair 
of spectacles, took one hand of the sick man and 
then the other, to feel if there was much difference 
in the pulses of the two wrists. 

“ Yes,” said he, “ it is as I feared. The pulses 
are different, and there is a battle going on in the 
body. Some time, when you were busy or asleep, 
so as not to notice, the spirit of cold crept in, and 

* When the doctor in China comes to see a sick person for 
the first time the friends, if not the sick one, sometimes ask 
how much it will cost to cure ; and if the price be too much 
the doctor is requested to do it for less, or the people may send 
for another who will cure for less money. As the people pay 
for the medicines, they often demand the cheaper kinds and 
refuse to take those which cost much. 


THE SICK FATHER. 


41 


it is now fighting the heat in your body and trying 
to drive it out. It has taken its stand in the middle 
of the body, and is there fighting the two sides.” 

“ But if there is cold in me, why am I so hot ?” 
asked the sick man. 

“ Why,” said the doctor, “ that is the result of 
heat fighting with the cold. When men fight they 
become hot ; so with your body — fighting makes it 
hot. A dead body is cold because its heat does not 
fight ; in fact, it has been driven out, and the cold 
has taken possession entirely.” 

“ If there be cold in me, why do I not feel it ?” 
asked Mr. Lee. 

“ The cold is all on the inside, and has driven 
the heat toward the outside,” answered the doctor. 
“ Did you not feel chilly when you first became sick 
or just before? That was the cold entering your 
body. Now we must stop that cold, drive it out, 
or it will conquer the heat and you will die.” 

Mr. Lee felt too sick to ask any more questions, 
and let the doctor talk to Mrs. Lee. “ He must 
have nothing cold to eat or drink, and he must be 
kept very warm ; there must no wind blow on him 
and there must be no air passing through the room. 
He must be kept as quiet as possible,” were the 
orders of the doctor; “and then, by the heating 
medicines I give him, the cold will soon be driven 
out or overcome, so that it cannot fight any more ; 
then it can easily be removed.” 

He told Mrs. Lee to send some one around to his 


42 


CHOH LIN. 


shop soon, when the medicines would be ready, and 
told her to be careful to give them just as he di- 
rected, and, above all, to keep her husband very 
quiet. He promised to come again in the morning, 
and said that by great care he could cure Mr. Lee, 
but it would take much costly medicine and give 
the doctor a great deal of trouble and anxiety. 

The whole family were forbidden to go into Mr. 
Lee’s room, or to even open the door, lest more cold 
should find its way into the sick man’s body and 
make the battle to drive it out all the harder. 

Choh Lin thought it very trying that he could 
not speak to or even see his father, but his mother 
told him that he might help him very much by 
asking the gods to make him well. The little fel- 
low felt very sorry, and when he went to bed at 
night determined to go very early to the temple the 
next morning. 

Choh Lin was up early and on his way to the 
temple. The village was not large, and he had 
so often been to the temple that he could easily find 
the way. He did not wish any one to know that 
he was going, so he went out very quietly through 
a back door. On his way he thought of Oan and 
of what had been said the night before. His little 
friend was not up yet when he came to Oan’s house ; 
but, as his father had already gone to work, the 
door was open, and Choh Lin found his way to the 
little boy’s bed and asked him to go with him to 
the temple to pray. Oan was soon up and ready. 


THE SICK FATHER. 


43 


Quietly the little boys slipped out of the house, and 
before long were in the temple. 

Choh Lin had told of his father’s illness, and 
when they were ready to worship he said to Oan, 
“ Let me worship first. You can wait for your 
dog, but my father cannot wait. I want to get him 
well very quickly.” 

It was agreed that Choh Lin should pray first. 
Bowing before the god, he began: “O god, my 
father is very sick, and we cannot make him well. 
We do not know how, but you do, and you can 
cure him. Choh Lin, your little slave-boy, prays 
you to make him well very soon. We cannot do 
without my father; we have only one, and if he 
dies our hearts will not let us get another. He is 
good, and when he is well again we will give you 
many good things, and I think that he will come 
and worship you too. He has not had time to wor- 
ship you, but mother and I have for him. Please 
make him well ; please do not let him die, for Choh 
Lin’s heart will die then ; and you, O great god, do 
not want a boy whose heart is buried ; please, then, 
make my father well.” 

When the little fellow had finished he turned to 
Oan and said, “ Now I have done, but you wait a 
little, until the god thinks how to cure my father. 
You know a father is worth more than ten thousand 
dogs. Besides, dogs are plenty, and I have only 
one father.” 

For quite a while the boys waited ; then Oan 


44 


CHOH LIN 


said, “ May I pray now, for I want a dog soon ? 
The god can think when we are gone.” 

“ Yes,” replied Choh Lin ; “ gods do not need to 
think long.” 

Then, bowing as he had seen Choh Lin, Oan 
began praying to the idol: “O god, please give a 
poor little boy a dog. He has no money to buy 
one, and his father has no money either. You 
need not give a large dog ; if it be only half as big 
as a kitten it will do ; I will make it grow the rest. 
If you have more black ones than any other kind, 
give me a black dog, but do not give me a white 
one unless you want all the others. If you will 
give me a dog I will come often to the temple, and 
will bring the dog too. Please give a dog to Lo 
Oan, a poor boy who lives in Tay Soa.” 

After Oan had finished he asked Choh Lin, “ Do 
you think I will get a dog now ?” 

“ I do not know,” said he ; “ you must pray more 
than once. But you must not tell the god that you 
will bring the dog to the temple ; dogs cannot wor- 
ship. It may be that gods do not like to have them 
there.” 

“ Shall I tell the god that I will leave the dog 
at home ?” 

“ Not now ; next time will do. You must pray 
often, you know.” 

“ Why ? Cannot the god remember about the 
dog?” 

“ I do not know. Mother and grandmother say 


THE SICK FATHER. 


45 


we must pray often until the god does give what we 
ask for. If my father is not better, I am coming 
again to-day.” 

“ I do not think that I will. I want a dog, but 
I do not like to worship too much for one. Some- 
body may give me one ; then I will not need to ask 
the god. I wish that some one would. Let us go 
home now.” 

So the little boys returned home. They had 
prayed to a dumb and helpless idol, instead of to 
a real God. But it was the only god of whom they 
knew. Why did they not know about Jesus ? 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE FATHERS DEATH. 

T HE little boys reached their homes before any 
one missed them, and as they said nothing 
about going to the temple, none suspected that they 
had been there to pray. Choh Lin was told by his 
mother that his father was no better. 

“ Oh, he will be better soon,” said the little boy. 
“ I hope that he will, yet I am afraid not. He 
is very, very ill. It is a bad fever. But why does 
my little boy think that his father will get well ?” 

“ I know. He will get well soon ; I know some- 
thing.” 

“ Has a fortune-teller said so ?” 

“No, mother. I will tell you. I went early to 
the temple and prayed to the god to make father 
well; and I am going again and mean to pray until 
he gets well. That is the way that you and grand- 
mother told me to do.” 

“ My heart’s loved little boy !” said Mrs. Lee. 
“ The gods must hear your prayer. You are good, 
and the idol will listen. Yes, pray, and pray often. 
But w T ho went with you to the temple?” 

“ Oan and I went. He prayed too, but he did 

46 


THE FATHER'S DEATH. 


47 


not pray for my father. He does not go often, and 
I did not ask him to pray for my father, because 
the gods may not know yet who Oan is. Do the 
gods answer the prayers of those whom they do not 
know ?” 

“ I think that the gods know everybody. But I 
must go, for the doctor is coming.” 

When the doctor came he saw that Mr. Lee was 
much worse. “ Ah,” said he, “ the medicine is 
fighting very hard. There must be a great deal 
of cold inside; we must use stronger medicines.” 
So he prepared a mixture of pepper and some other 
things that burn even worse, and told Mrs. Lee to 
give this mixture, with the other medicine, very 
often, and it would drive the cold out in time. 
The doctor then went away, promising to call again 
soon. 

The new medicine only made the sick man worse. 
He became delirious, and every little while would 
say, “ Cold water, please ! cold water !” But no one 
gave the sufferer cold water. Sometimes, when he 
was partly asleep, he would call to Choh Lin, “ My 
little boy, give your father a drink of cold water.” 
The doctor’s orders were strict ; and, besides, as the 
Chinese think cold water is not good for well people 
to drink, no one would give it to a sick man. 

Mr. Lee’s friends came in, and seeing how ill he 
was said that another doctor must be called. As 
they could not agree on one, several were sent for. 
One said that this remedy must be tried, and another 


48 


CHOH LIN. 


that, yet the new doctors did no better than the old 
one. 

Mrs. Lee and the grandmother went more than 
once each day to the temple to pray the gods to cure 
the sick man, and promised the idols a great feast 
and very many good things if they would make 
him well. Choh Lin usually went with them, and 
when he saw his mother cry and beg the gods to 
drive away the fever and not let her husband die, 
he would kneel down crying before his own special 
idol and say, “ Please, Choh Lin’s own god, do not 
let the little boy of your own heart lose his father. 
He is the only father I have, and if he dies there is 
no place where I can get another. Grandmother 
cries, mother cries, Choh Lin cries, Chi Lap cries, 
all cry, 1 Spare him whom our hearts love.’” 

But doctors, medicines, prayers, tears, did not stop 
the fever. Mr. Lee’s friends felt very sad when 
they thought that he must die, yet there were not 
a few in the village who did not care. Some said, 
“It is plain that death wants somebody from the 
village, and if it is not Mr. Lee it will be one of 
us. So if he is taken we shall be spared the longer.” 
It was not that they wanted the sick man to die, 
but in China people care for .self rather than for 
others, and think when death is trying to get some 
one else he will let them alone. So far do they 
carry this selfish idea that often they will let a man 
who falls into the water drown rather than pull 
him out. They fear that by pulling him out they 


THE FATHER’S DEATH. 


49 


will rob Death, who will get his pay by killing 
them. 

Some who were glad that Mr. Lee was likely to 
die were those who owed him money ; they thought 
that if he died they would get clear of paying their 
debts. Some, too, thought that in the confusion at- 
tending his death they might be able to take some 
of his property without being noticed. 

At length the doctors gave up all hope ; they said 
that if they had been called before they would have 
saved the sick man’s life, but it was too late now. 
And the one who had been called first said that he 
knew Mr. Lee would die as soon as those men who 
knew nothing about the disease took him in charge 
to dose him with their worthless remedies. 

Choh Lin’s mother and grandmother could not 
give lip yet. Each resolved to try once more to 
“ bring back the spirit of the sick man,” as they 
said. The grandmother, taking the little boy to 
the temple, told him to pray to his own idol while 
she worshiped another. Lighting a large number 
of incense-sticks before the idol and kneeling before 
it, she told the god that her son was sick, and that 
he must be made well or there would be a great 
deal of suffering in the village ; not only would his 
family suffer, but many of the people would suffer 
and be unable to give incense or food or any good 
things to the gods ; so they too would suffer. Then 
she begged the god to allow her to take with her a 
curiously-shaped utensil, looking somewhat like an 


50 


CHOH LIN. 


arrow, on which were the characters — that is, Chi- 
nese words — for “command.” This would mean, 
if in the room of the sick man, that the god com- 
manded the disease to leave. This utensil was to 
be hung up in the sick room and worshiped as 
though it were an idol. When the old lady sup- 
posed that her prayer was heard, and that she might 
take what she asked for, she took the utensil from 
its place, and, calling Choh Lin, started for home. 

As soon as the little boy and his grandmother 
came home, Mrs. Lee, taking Chi Lap, went to the 
temple. Here, at her request, two priests were 
waiting. They had with them the coat that Mr. 
Lee had last worn, a small mirror made of metal 
brightly polished and a pole of bamboo-wood fresh- 
ly cut, with leaves yet green at the top. A stick, 
fastened by a string to the top of the pole, was put 
into the coat for arms ; then above it, and just high 
enough to represent the head of a man wearing the 
coat, the mirror was fastened to the string. When 
everything was ready the priest gave the pole to 
Chi Lap, who held it over his shoulder. Then a 
priest rang a bell and called Mr. Lee’s name, and 
repeated some words supposed to have power to 
bring the spirit of the man who had worn the coat 
back to its place. After the priest had repeated 
these words and performed several ceremonies that 
need not be told here, the coat was hurriedly taken 
to Mr. Lee’s house, and, as he was too weak to have 
it put on, the coat was laid over him on the bed. 


THE FATHER'S DEATH. 


51 


The object of all this was to call back the spirit, 
which was supposed to be leaving Mr. Lee’s body. 
The poor man understood the meaning of it all, 
though he seemed too weak to speak, and he only 
tried to shake his head. After a while he motioned 
to his wife to come to him. He whispered, “Bo 
law eng ; kau si-mia e law be ” (There is no road to 
use; I have arrived at life’s end). 

The delirium g,nd fever had passed away ; so had 
his strength, and Mr. Lee knew that he must die. 
For a few minutes his strength came back a little, 
and he called his two bo vs to his bed. Looking* at 
them, he said, “ My boys, your father has been to a 
land where it is very hot, and there was no water 
there for him. He asked the people to give him 
one drink, only one taste of cold water, but they 
would not. Two looked like his own Chi Lap and 
Choh Lin, but it could not be ; they would not let 
their father die for want of a drink of cold water. 
But no one would give it, and the fever-fire has 
burned his spirit loose. It must go soon, but where 
he does not know. When it has gone his boys 
must not forget to place food and water where it 
may get them. I do not wish to go ; I wish to stay 
and care for my boys and for all. But it is too late 
now. It is all dark, dark ! Let me sleep.” 

They stooped over him ; they called his name, 
but he did not answer, he did not notice them. 
“ He is asleep,” said one. Yes, he was asleep, but 
it was the sleep that does not waken. His breath- 


52 


CHOH LIN 


ing was slower and slower until it stopped, and Mr. 
Lee was dead. 

For a few moments they stood around the dead 
man in silence, hoping that he was asleep, until 
Choh Lin’s grandmother stooped over the bed and 
listened ; he did not breathe. She started back with 
the cry, “ My heart has passed away ! my heart has 
passed away !” 

Sad was the lamentation of the old mother ; more 
touching still were the cries of Mrs. Lee when she 
knew that she was a widow. She begged his spirit 
to come back, to speak just once more to her, and 
besought it not to leave her alone as a bird in a 
cage with no hand to keep her from starving. How 
should she now care for the little fledglings in the 
nest ? Soon they would call for food, and she must 
hear their cry, unable to feed them. She little 
thought how like a prophecy these words would 
prove. 

When it became known that Mr. Lee was dead 
the friends in the house began to cry and lament 
their loss. They had reason to mourn, for they 
had no good hope of meeting the dead loved one 
again. As Mr. Lee said, it was all dark, dark to 
them. No gospel to light death, no Jesus to give 
light to the grave. That darkness is awful. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE FUNERAL, 



S soon as the mourners became more quiet, can- 


dies and incense-sticks were lighted and placed 
by the side of Mr. Lee’s body. The Chinese believe 
that all is dark in the spirit-world, and that the 
spirit does not know how to find the path ; so, as 
soon as possible after death, candles are lighted to 
show the way. The incense is meant as worship to 
the spirit. The people worship the spirits of the 
dead somewhat as they do idols, only they treat the 
spirits with much more respect than they do their 
gods; they fear and love them more. 

The next day, when the body was prepared for 
the coffin, the whole family assembled in the room 
in which it lay. Chi Lap, who had been told what 
to do, took a cup of wine, and, kneeling before the 
dead, three times placed the cup to the lips of the 
corpse. After this he took, with a pair of chopsticks, 
some cooked food from a bowl and offered this three 
times, and again he did the same with boiled rice. 
While he was thus offering drink and food to the 
dead all the rest, except Mrs. Lee and old Mrs. 


53 


54 


CHOH LIN. 


Lee, kneeled around the body and with loud cries 
mourned their loss. 

After this another ceremony was performed. A 
paper sedan-chair, an imitation of the real ones in 
which the Chinese ride, and four imitation chair- 
bearers, or men to carry the sedan, made of paper, 
were placed on the ground in front of the house, 
and four cups of wine and eight small cakes — real 
cups and wine and real bread — were put near them. 
When all was ready for the ceremony Chi Lap set 
fire to the paper men and sedan, while two priests 
who were present recited a prayer, keeping time 
with brass cymbals. 

The people suppose that these paper men and 
sedan-chairs, when burned, become spirit men and 
chairs in the next world to carry the soul of the 
one they mourn. The wine and bread are for the 
use of the chair-bearers. They are expected to get 
the spirit of the food in the other world. A paper 
house with paper furniture, paper clothes and every- 
thing that the soul was supposed to need in the 
other world were burned also. 

Lest the reader should grow tired of these cere- 
monies, we will pass over the rest of them. 

Little Choh Lin did not understand their mean- 
ing, nor did he quite understand why his father was 
put into the coffin. He had never seen so much 
done at any other funeral, and could not see why it 
should be done for his father. He asked his mother 
if it was because his father did not worship the gods 


THE FUNERAL. 


55 


as much as other people that so much must be done 
for him when dead. His mother told him that his 
father was a good man, and because he was good 
and had left money to do it with, they could have 
so many ceremonies. 

“ But, mother,” asked the little fellow, “ does not 
my father grow tired of so many ceremonies? I 
would. He said, ‘ Let me sleep ’ when he died, 
and the priests and people will not let him sleep. 
Their noise will disturb him. Shall I tell them 
to stop?” 

“ No, my boy,” said Mrs. Lee, “ it will not dis- 
turb him. Noise does not trouble spirits as it does 
us. Besides, all this crying and mourning will tell 
the spirits how much your father was loved and 
how much he is missed now. They will think that 
he was a great man in the world, and will treat him 
with respect.” 

“ Mother, if father was such a good man, why 
must he die?” 

“ I do not know, Choh Lin. It was the will of 
heaven — heaven knows.” 

“ Why could it not be the will of heaven that 
some bad man should die ? There are many such 
men.” 

“Choh Lin must not ask such questions. We 
cannot tell why heaven takes away good people 
who are loved and leaves bad ones who are hated.” 

“ What is heaven, mother?” 

“ I do not know. Heaven is above us, whence 


56 


CHOH LIN 


good things come; the sunshine, rain and other 
good things live there.” 

The Chinese often talk about heaven, yet when 
asked where and what heaven is they seem, like 
Mrs. Lee, to know very little about it. Perhaps 
the first fathers of the Chinese learned from 
prophets, or from the Bible, or from God himself, 
that heaven is God’s home and the place where 
every good is ; but when the people turned to idols 
they lost nearly all the knowledge they had about 
God and heaven. 

When the body of the dead man was put into 
the coffin the lid was fastened down tightly and 
every part of the coffin made air-tight with cement. 
Then, instead of burying the dead a few days after 
death, the body was kept for a number of weeks in 
the best room in the house. The Chinese keep their 
dead so long before burial because they think that 
it will seem like wanting to get rid of their friends 
if they hurry the bodies off to the grave. They 
regard it a disgrace to have the funeral too soon. 

When the time came for Mr. Lee’s funeral, the 
relatives and friends gathered at the house to join 
the procession to the grave. No address was given, 
no prayer offered, no hymn sung, because it was a 
heathen funeral. The coffin was placed on a bier 
carried by ropes fastened to poles that were borne 
on the shoulders of men. An offering was then 
made to a god in the hope that he would take care 
of the soul of the man whom they were about to 


THE FUNERAL. 


57 


bury. After the offering the bearers took up the 
bier and started for the grave. Before them went 
men blowing instruments of music, and following 
the coffin was a covered sedan-chair carried by two 
men, in which was a little wooden tablet. After 
the sedan came Choh Lin and Chi Lap on foot, 
and Mrs. Lee and the grandmother riding in sedans. 
Then came the rest of Mr. Lee’s family and his 
friends on foot. All of these relatives were crying 
and mourning with loud voices. For a few mo- 
ments the noise would be less, then all would burst 
into tears again and mourn louder than before. 

Choh Lin and Chi Lap, as also their mother, 
grandmother and sister, wore over their clothing 
long coarse sackcloth cloaks of a grayish-white 
color. These coats had hoods that covered the 
heads all but a small part of the face, and long 
sleeves that almost hid the hands. Others of the 
relatives wore these coats, but only the nearest 
relatives wore the hoods. 

The grave was on the side of a hill, and was 
lined with cement. Into this grave the coffin was 
lowered, and then, when all others had moved back, 
Chi Lap came forward and bowed toward the coffin 
three times until his face touched the ground. Next 
came Choh Lin, then Mrs. Lee and the grand- 
mother, afterward the daughter, and last the other 
relatives, each in turn bowing with face to the 
ground. 

At the end of this ceremony of worshiping the 


58 


CHOH LIN 


dead, Chi Lap took the tablet that had been carried 
in the sedan-chair, and, while all of the rest kneeled, 
placed it at the head of the grave, and then, kneel- 
ing too, he said, “ Let the flesh and the bones return 
to the earth again, but let the spirit enter this tab- 
let.” 

The grave was closed with cement, and the 
friends, taking the tablet in the sedan-chair again, 
returned to the village. The tablet was placed in a 
room in Mr. Lee’s house near those of his father 
and grandfather. The Chinese suppose that one 
spirit of the dead person at the grave enters this 
tablet and lives there ; so they treat these little pieces 
of wood as though they were real persons. They 
place food and drink before them ; they offer incense 
to them; they worship the wood and pray to it: 
they say, however, that they do not worship the 
wood, but the spirit in it. So powerful do they 
suppose a spirit becomes after death that sometimes, 
when a man wishes to take terrible vengeance on an 
enemy, he kills himself. He thinks if he is a spirit 
that he can make his enemy suffer far more than if 
he remained in the world in a body, 

No one seems to know how the Chinese first got 
the idea of worshiping the spirits of the dead. Very 
many do not worship idols ; many laugh at the gods, 
but none laugh at the worship of the spirits. There 
are several stories told by the Chinese about the 
first worship of the tablets, and we will give two 
of them in a few words: 



I t 


Ancestral Tablet 


Page 58 

























































' l 

t.« ■ x 


. • • • « 






THE FUNERAL. 


59 


More than two thousand years ago, as a noted 
prince was traveling with some of his people 
through a woods, all the food was eaten, and no 
more could be got. One of the servants of this 
prince — so the story goes — to save the great man’s 
life cut a piece of flesh from his own thigh and had 
it cooked for his master. The prince was saved, 
but the poor man, unable to walk, was burned to 
death by a fire that was kindled in the woods. The 
prince afterward had a tablet made in memory of 
his faithful servant, and to this he offered incense 
and worship. 

The other story is, that a little boy, who had been 
very disobedient to his parents, afterward became 
very good to them. His mother one day, when 
taking food to him in the field, fell over a root of a 
tree and hurt herself so badly that she died of it. 
The boy took this root and made images of his 
parents and worshiped them. Do you think the 
Chinese foolish ? But they do not know any better. 
Why? 


CHAPTER VIII. 


CRUEL RELATIVES. 


FTER the funeral Choh Lin missed his father 



very much. While the body remained in the 
house the little fellow seemed to think that the 
dead man was asleep and would awake again ; but 
now, since the room in which the coffin had stood 
was empty, he longed very much to see his father. 
Mr. Lee had been very fond of his sons, and Choh 
Lin was his special favorite. It was not merely the 
petting and the good things given him by his father 
that the little boy missed; he wanted to see him 
again because he loved him. 

One day, shortly after the funeral, Choh Lin 
asked, “ Mother, when will father come back ? I 
want to see him.” 

“ He will not come back, Choh Lin,” replied the 
mother. 

“ Not come back at all ? Can I not have my 
father any more?” 

“ No,” said Mrs. Lee ; “ you have no father now, 
I no husband. He has left us alone.” 

“ We are not alone, mother. You are here, I 
am, Chi Lap is, and so are grandmother and my 
sister ; father only is gone. Where has he gone ?” 


60 


CRUEL RELATIVES. 


61 


“ He has gone away into the spirit-world, never 
to come again to his family.” 

“ Can I not see my father again ? Why did he 
go and leave his little boy behind him ? Why did 
he not take Choh Lin too ? Can I go to him ?” 

“ No, no, my little boy ; you must stay with me. 
You do not wish to die, do you?” 

“ What is it to die, mother ?” 

“ It is to be put into a coffin and be buried in 
the ground, and go alone into the gloomy desert of 
the spirit-world, there to be without friends, cloth- 
ing, food — without anything — unless people in this 
life care for your wants.” 

“ Has my father no home nor food where he is ?” 

“ No, none but what we give him.” 

“ Then if we do not take care of him he will be 
hungry and will starve. Poor father ! What would 
he do if we could not take care of him? What 
will he do, and what will we do, when we die? If 
no one should feed us in the spirit-world would 
we die?” 

“No. Spirits cannot die. They shiver with 
cold, they grow hungry and thirsty, they are lone- 
ly, they starve, but cannot die.” 

“ Mother, did father have more than one soul ?” 
asked Chi Lap, who had just come into the room. 
“ You say that his soul is in the spirit- world, yet 
the soul at the grave came into the tablet that we 
brought home with us.” 

“My boys,” said the mother, “each body has 


62 


CHOH LIN. 


more than one spirit — we do not know, surely, how 
many : one goes into the dark world, another into 
the tablet, and another stays at the grave. We can- 
not see into the spirit-world.” 

Not long after the burial of Mr. Lee the friends 
and relatives of the dead man came, as they said, 
“ to settle up his accounts with themselves.” As 
her husband’s business had been so large, and Mrs. 
Lee was unable to carry it on, or even to settle it, 
she was glad to have help. But the men said that 
they could attend to it without any help from her. 
Each one knew how his own account stood, and all 
of them together could arrange the whole very 
easily. 

Men whom Mr. Lee had helped in business came, 
and, presenting bills, said that Mr. Lee owed them 
large sums of money. Others to whom Mr. Lee 
had lent money when asked for it said that he ow r ed 
them very much more than they owed him. These 
knew that Mrs. Lee was not able to defend herself 
or take care of her property, and that her boys 
were too small yet to go to law with them ; so they 
thought that it would be an easy way not only to 
get rid of paying debts, but of getting part of Mr. 
Lee’s property. 

The relatives who had charge of the business 
made these men give them a share of the money 
which their bills demanded, and then settled with 
them. Thus, instead of Mrs. Lee getting the 


CRUEL RELATIVES. 


63 


money that was owing her husband, she lost it 
and more besides. In this way nearly all of the 
money that Mr. Lee had left for his wife and chil- 
dren was taken from them. 

Men who had worked for Mr. Lee brought in 
large accounts that they said had been unsettled for 
many months. The relatives did not care to look 
for receipts among Mr. Lee’s papers ; if these men 
only gave them a large part of the money, the ac- 
counts were paid. 

When all had been paid, not only was the money 
all gone, but much had been borrowed. These rel- 
atives had lent it themselves or borrowed of others, 
and they said that the property must be sold to pay 
back this money. Mrs. Lee tried to stop them, and 
said that they were cheating her and Mr. Lee’s chil- 
dren. The men became very angry and threatened 
to turn her and her children out of doors. Mr. 
Lee’s property was theirs, they said ; they had ad- 
vanced money to pay off his debts, and they meant 
to have that money back again. Besides, Mr. Lee, 
they said, had owed them for many years, and they 
had waited for their pay until he was able to give 
it. 

Mrs. Lee saw that these men meant to rob her 
of all her property in one way and another, and 
that she had no one to help her ; so she determined 
to take the control of her affairs in her own hands. 
She tried to send the men away, but they would not 
go ; she tried to take the business out of their con- 


64 


CHOH LIN. 


trol, but they would not give it up ; she tried to 
learn about the business, and even that they refused 
to tell her. 

There are laws in China, and officers of govern- 
ment to see that these laws are obeyed, but a little 
money given to these officers usually saves the of- 
fender from punishment. There are roguery and 
cheating in our own land, yet this is really the 
place for honest people ; but rogues are as plenty in 
China as honest men are here, and that means that 
there are very many of them. 

All that Mrs. Lee could do only made matters 
worse. A woman in China has little hope of get- 
ting her rights before the mandarins (Chinese offi- 
cers), and very seldom does a woman appeal to them. 
The only way that Mrs. Lee could take to drive 
away these relations of her husband was to call on 
her own father’s family to help her. They lived 
far away from Tay Soa, and she was left to help 
herself. The people in the village might have pitied 
Mrs. Lee, but they said, “ It is not our business ; we 
will only get into trouble ourselves by helping; 
these men will bring a false charge against us to 
the mandarins, and we will receive harm ourselves, 
while Mrs. Lee will get no good.” So the poor 
woman was left to the rascality of these men, who 
took away all the property that Mr. Lee left his 
family. 

His boats were seized by these men, who pre- 
tended to own them, or were sold to others to pay 


CRUEL RELATIVES. 


65 


the debts that it was said were on the property ; all 
the rice in the rice-shop had been stolen by these 
relatives; the lumber in the lumber-yard disap- 
peared, no one seemed able to tell how ; and several 
rice-fields, his relatives said, belonged to their fam- 
ily. In this way all the property, except the house 
in which Mrs. Lee lived and the furniture, was taken 
away, and she was left without anything to support 
her family. 

In her anxiety to save something for her family 
Mrs. Lee partly forgot her grief at the loss of her 
husband ; and now that she must do something at 
once to get food for her children, she had no time 
to mourn. Unable to punish those who had robbed 
her, the poor widow hated the unjust men all the 
more. She determined to be revenged on them in 
some way, and taught her boys not only to hate, but 
to think of punishing, the men who had taken their 
property. 

One day, as the family at their scanty dinner 
were talking of some way to “ get even ” with the 
rogues, Mrs. Lee said to Choh Lin, “ You can pray 
your god to punish them. Ask him to send sick- 
ness and death to their families — to make the rain 
destroy their crops or the drought to kill their rice. 
Ask him to send robbers to steal what they have 
or to make the mandarins catch and shut them in 
prison. Your god ought to take your part and 
punish those who rob you.” 

“ You can pray to your father’s spirit to bring 
5 


66 


CHOU LIN. 


sickness and loss and death to their families, ” added 
the grandmother. 

“ I do not believe that my father’s spirit would 
do it,” replied Chi Lap. “ He would not let us 
fight the boys who hurt us when he was alive, and 
I do not believe that he will harm people now.” 

“ But you can pray him to help you get back the 
property that those rogues stole from you.” 

“ Can my father’s spirit help us, grandmother?” 
asked Choh Lin. 

“Certainly,” replied the grandmother. 

“Then why must we give his spirit food, clothing 
and other things?” inquired the child. 

“ Because he does not know yet where to find such 
things in the spirit-world,” answered the grand- 
mother. “ But you need not ask many questions 
now.” The old lady was afraid to hear the boys 
ask questions about the spirit-world. The Chinese 
believe so many foolish things that they do not like 
to be catechised about their superstitious notions. 

Mrs. Lee found it very hard to get food for her 
family, and more than once not only she and the 
grandmother, but the children too, were obliged to 
go hungry to bed. She thought one day that she 
would try to sell her large house and buy or rent a 
small one, and have enough money left to support 
her family for a long time. She asked a man if he 
knew of any one who wanted to buy a house. This 
soon came to the ears of the relatives who had rob- 
bed her, and they were afraid that she would sell 


CRUEL RELATIVES. 


67 


and go away with the money; so some of them 
came at once to forbid her selling the property. 
She had no right to do it, they said. Mrs. Lee 
gave sharp answers in reply. They told her that 
if she tried to sell they would at once drive her out 
of the house and take it themselves. A few days 
after they heard that she meant to dispose of the 
place, and several came as soon as possible to “ see 
about it.” The result of all was that they drove 
Mrs. Lee and her family from the large house and 
made her take a much smaller one that, they said, 
belonged to Mr. Lee. The large one they took pos- 
session of, as they professed, for Mr. Lee’s children. 

But this did not end the cruelty of these men. 
They wanted an excuse to keep the house. They 
dared not rob any more. Besides, they were afraid 
that if they took the house they might be obliged 
to support the children and widow. Only one way 
seemed open to them : they would have Mrs. Lee 
marry again, and then as a wife in another family 
they could say that since sheJiad deserted Mr. Lee’s 
relatives they were not obliged to care for her and 
she had no right to his property. They knew that 
if she did marry she would keep her children, and 
then, on the plea that the children had been adopted 
into another family, these relatives would claim the 
property. 

One day a number of Mr. Lee’s relatives came 
to the house where Mrs. Lee was living and pre- 
tended to be anxious about her welfare. They said 


68 


CHOH LIN. 


it was a pity that her husband had left his business 
in such a bad condition. They did not believe that 
the men who settled it had done the very best with 
the property, yet it was too late now to remedy that. 
Nor was it just that those men should keep posses- 
sion of the large house; yet, as they were many and 
had great influence, it would be safer to say little 
about it now. They were only keeping the house 
for the children ; as soon as the boys became men it 
would be given back to them. Besides, that house 
could not be sold out of the family; it stood not on 
Mr. Lee’s ground, but on that belonging to the 
whole family. They were poor themselves and un- 
able to aid the widow, though they would gladly do 
all in their power to help so good a woman. Grad- 
ually they turned the conversation until one of them 
said to the other, “ If a young and rich man, good 
enough, could be found to marry our sister here, 
how fortunate it would be for her and her children, 
who otherwise may suffer I” 

“ Oh no,” said the other ; “ it would not do to 
think of her marrying and leaving the family. We 
cannot let her go.” 

“But she need not leave our family,” replied the 
first. “ She is too much one of us to be lost by 
marrying again.” 

In this way they tried to find out whether the 
widow would be willing to marry; but as she said 
nothing and acted as though she did not hear, one 
asked her what she thought of Ian’s plan. 


CRUEL RELATIVES. 


69 


“ What plan ?” asked Mrs. Lee. 

“ Ian thinks that if you could find a good and 
rich husband to take care of you and the children 
it would save you a great deal of care and suffer- 
ing, ’’ replied the man. 

“ I do not want a husband ; I never mean to 
marry again. No woman can find more than one 
good husband, and few find even one in this world. 
Their father,” said Mrs. Lee, pointing to the boys, 
“ was a good man. He was the only good one in 
this place, or some one would have cared for a 
widow who had no friends. No, I will never have 
a husband again ” 

The men soon found that it was useless to talk 
gently about her marrying, and they began to say 
that she must get a husband. 

“ I have a husband, and I love him yet,” said 
she firmly. “ His body only is dead ; his spirit 
lives, and I will go to him some day, but it shall 
not be from the house of a stranger.” 

It was useless to reason with her about her chil- 
dren. " I will take care of them,” said she, “ if I 
must give my life to do it. If we must starve, we 
will starve together. Cruel relatives can then think 
that they killed us ; for what have they done but 
rob his children of the food that he gathered? 
Vengeance will come some day. If through the 
skeleton gate of starvation we must go to the spirit- 
world, we will come back again. The robbers of 
the widow and fatherless will then find them- 


70 


CHOU LIN. 


selves robbed, and none can find that which will 
then be taken away.” 

The woman’s manner and words frightened some 
of the men, and they were ready to let Mrs. Lee 
take her own course. But two or three more des- 
perate ones determined not to be baffled. They 
would not let a woman conquer. They told her 
that she must marry. She might as well yield first 
as last, for they were men, and many too, while she 
was only a woman, and one alone. 

“ If I am only one and but a woman,” said Mrs. 
Lee, u there is one thing I can do : I can die a 
widow.” 

Angry beyond control at her determination, one 
of the men caught up a heavy iron hoe and struck 
Mrs. Lee on her head. Without a word or a cry, 
only uttering a low moan, the poor woman sank to 
the floor. Pale, silent and motionless she lay there. 

“ She is dead, dead ; you have killed her,” cried 
the daughter. 

“ My child ! my child ! are you dead ? are you 
dead?” moaned the old grandmother as she bent 
over Mrs. Lee. “ Have I lost my last and best ? 
No, do not go. — O spirit of my child, come back ! 
come back ! My light, go not out ; leave me not in 
darkness.” 

When the men saw what had been done they 
were frightened, and hurriedly left the house, and 
as soon as possible the village. 

For a moment Choh Lin looked at his mother, 


CRUEL RELATIVES. 


71 


then at his sister and grandmother, and when he 
saw them kneeling beside his mother and mourning 
for her, he too began to cry. Chi Lap’s first thought 
was to strike the man who had struck his mother, 
but as he saw them all run away he kneeled beside 
his grandmother and asked, “ Is mother badl v 
hurt?” He could not understand that death could 
come so suddenly. 

“ Badly hurt, poor child ?” said the grandmother. 
“She is dead. You have no father, and now no 
mother, and my last child is gone.” 

“No, she is not dead,” replied Chi Lap. “See, 
she moves; she is alive. — Mother! mother! do not 
die ! do not leave us !” 

Mrs. Lee was not dead, though very dangerously 
wounded. For some time she was senseless, but 
after the blood had been washed from the wound 
and the injured woman laid on a bed, she slowly 
recovered her senses. For several days it was un- 
certain whether she would live or die, but, being a 
strong, healthy woman, she passed the time of dan- 
ger and gradually grew better. It was some weeks 
before she was entirely well. 


CHAPTER IX. 

SEEKING A LIFE-GIVING GOD. 

T HE cruelty of these relatives made a great stir 
in the village, though the mandarins took no 
notice of it. Perhaps they thought that as Mrs. 
Lee was poor they would get no money for punish- 
ing her enemies. No one made complaint to them, 
so that they were not obliged to attend to the matter. 
If the officers in China took notice of every case 
of cruelty, they would find far more to do than they 
have now. 

The elders of the village, however, felt that these 
relatives had gone too far, and if not stopped might 
actually murder the poor woman ; so they forbade 
the men abusing her any further, but allowed them 
to keep their ill-gotten property. 

The elders of a Chinese village have authority 
something like that of parents in our country, 
though they are not government officers. The rob- 
bers knew that if they disobeyed the elders a com- 
plaint would be made to the mandarins, and then 
much of the stolen property must be surrendered to 
save them from punishment. After this Mrs. Lee 
72 


SEEKING A LIFE-GIVING GOD. 


73 


and her family were not troubled so much, though 
by no means free from little annoyances. 

Mrs. Lee was very grateful for her recovery, and 
looked upon it as life from the dead. She believed 
that some god had restored her to life. This god 
she determined to find — to make him her own, and 
then teach her family of him. But who was the 
god? Where was he worshiped? What temple 
had been built in his honor? Often she asked her- 
self these questions, and in every way possible tried 
to find out. She talked to her friends in the village 
about her recovery, and told them that she believed 
there was somewhere a greater god than she had 
known before, who had brought her back to life 
again. She asked them to tell all they knew of 
the gods of their own and other countries, but they 
could tell little more than she knew already. “ Per- 
haps,” said one, “ there is a greater god in our land 
than we know, and he may be worshiped in some 
temple far away from Tay Soa.” 

She learned of a number of temples, some many 
miles away. Saying nothing to others, she started 
one morning alone to find one of these. It was a 
long, weary walk, but when, near noon, she reached 
the place, she found the same gods worshiped there 
that she had known in Tay Soa. She prayed and 
offered incense to them, yet in her heart felt that 
they were not what she sought. At night she 
reached home disappointed, though determined to 
seek another temple, a larger one still, farther away, 


74 


CHOH LIN 


of which she had heard on her journey. She went 
to this, too, to be disappointed. Though some of the 
idols were different from those she had seen before, 
yet after offering food, incense and prayer she left, 
feeling that none of them had the spirit of the god 
she longed to find. 

In this way she went to temple after temple until 
all within many miles of her home had been vis- 
ited, yet nowhere did she find the life-giving god. 
In her talks with the priests she asked what each 
god did, and always asked if there were any who 
could give life to the dead. Some gave one and 
some another answer, but all said that none of the 
gods whom they knew could restore the dead to 
life, nor did they believe there were such gods in 
China or in any other land. One priest said, 
“ There is no such thing as a dead person coming 
to life again. Once dead, the body is dead for ever. 
There is no god who can, or at least who will, bring 
it back to life.” 

“ There must be such a god,” she replied, “ for 
I was killed, or so nearly killed that I must have 
died had not some god unknown to me brought my 
life back. There is such a god, and I am trying to 
find him. I want to know where his temple is, that 
I may go there to worship him. He gave life back 
to me, and when I find him he shall have me and 
all that I have.” 

Some priests looked at her, then at each other, 
with a look that seemed to say, “ The woman is 


SEEKING A LIFE-GIVING GOD . 


75 


crazy others told her that her search would be 
vain. 

Not only did she go to the temples of both of the 
great religions of China — the Buddhist and the 
Tauist — but tried to learn their doctrines and all 
about the many gods of which they taught. Every- 
where she met with the same disappointment. The 
hungering, thirsting famine of soul, the anxious 
longing to find the god who gave life, remained, 
but of the god she could learn nothing. Wearied 
with her search, she gradually came to believe that 
there was no such god, or, if there were, that he had 
hid himself so that none could find him. 

An aged priest told her one day, “ I am an old 
man and more learned than you ; I have studied 
this long and carefully, and ought to know. I tell 
you there is no better god than those we worship. 
Our country is the oldest, wisest and best of the 
world, and certainly has the best gods. If there 
were better ones, the wise men who lived long ago 
would have found out about them. But no learned 
men, no books, nothing in the Middle Kingdom ” 
(the Chinese name for their country), “ tells of other 
gods.” 

“ Is all known ?” asked Mrs. Lee ; “ is there 
nothing new to learn?” 

“ There is nothing new to learn about the gods,” 
was the reply. 

“But there are new things in the world — new 
things to us, too,” answered Mrs. Lee. “ At every 


76 


CHOH LIN. 


rise of the sun comes a new day. New years follow 
the old ones ; new lives begin, and old die out and 
are gone. Why may it not be that new gods are 
born, or at least appear ?” 

“ None have appeared,” was the reply. 

“ Perhaps we know none who have appeared, yet 
they may have shown themselves elsewhere.” 

“ If any gods better than those of the Middle 
Kingdom live, they would surely show themselves 
to our country. Gods, like men, seek the best lands 
as their home. No, rest assured that the best gods 
are those who have made our country their choice. 
Other nations try to get our gods. For many years 
there has been a class of foreigners in our country 
who have pretended to bring in a new religion, but 
they are merely copying * one of ours, the Buddhist. 
But the copy is too poor ; the gods are not deceived 
by it. These foreigners intend to teach our people 
this new religion, and hope by that means to win 
the favor of the gods, but they have another object : 
they wish to get money.” 

“ Perhaps foreigners have better gods at home,” 
suggested Mrs. Lee. 

“ I don’t think so,” replied the old man. “ If 
they had they would have brought some of their 
idols here for us to buy, or at least would have told 

* There is a strong resemblance between the worship of the 
Roman Catholics in China and that of the Buddhists. An ob- 
server hardly knows which is copying, if either be taken from 
the other, the similarity is so striking. 


SEEKING A LIFE-GIVING GOD. 


77 


us about them. They have better ships, better 
money, better cloth, better tools, better medicine; 
they have better guns, too, than we. All these 
they bring to sell to our people, but they never 
bring any of their gods nor their religion to sell. 
They would surely do it if they had better than 
we. Indeed, they would bring their religion to 
sell if they had any.” 

“ What ! have foreigners no gods at all ?” asked 
Mrs. Lee in astonishment. 

“ They have none,” replied the priest, “ except 
that of which I tell you, and that is but a poor 
copy of our own.” 

“ Do they never worship, have they no temples, 
no gods at all, in foreign countries ?” inquired Mrs. 
Lee. “ Then they are wretched indeed.” 

“ I have not asked them, but others of our peo- 
ple who have lived on their ships say that they 
never worship any idol or spirit.” 

“ Perhaps the men who come to our country are 
the poor outcast ones of their country, who have 
been driven away because they would not worship 
the gods or spirits.” 

“ That may be,” replied the old priest thought- 
fully : then, after a moment of silence, he continued, 
“ No, that cannot be, for some men who have come 
here were their mandarins and commanded their 
large war-vessels. These did not worship either.” 

“ Strange people they must be,” spoke Mrs. Lee, 
half to herself, “ to have nothing to worship ! They 


78 


CHOH LIN ; 


must be like dogs or buffaloes. How much better 
the Middle Kingdom is than those wretched foreign 
countries ! But how can it be that they have no 
gods ? Who cares for them ? Do they not serve 
any being nor love anything?” 

“ Yes,” replied the priest, with a change in his 
look and tone ; “ they do serve something, and love 
it more than any in our land do our gods. For- 
eigners have a god ; they love him, too, with all 
their hearts, and give all they have to his service. 
It is for this god they leave their country and come 
here.” 

“ What do you mean ?” asked Mrs. Lee, not un- 
derstanding the priest’s words. “You said they 
have no gods, and now you tell me that they have 
one whom they love and faithfully serve.” 

“ Oh,” answered the old man, “ the god of whom 
I speak is known and worshiped in China too. 
The people know and worship him, while the man- 
darins serve him faithfully.” 

“ Is it the emperor ?” inquired she. 

“ No,” was the reply. “ I will show you one of 
their gods;” and he showed her a silver dollar. 
“ This is the god of the foreigners ; for this they 
live — for this they make war, enslave and murder 
nations.” 

“ What do you mean ?” asked Mrs. Lee, looking 
at the priest with astonishment. 

“ I mean that some years ago, when our emperor 
forbade the smoking and buying of opium, and or- 


SEEKING A LIFE-GIVING GOD. 


79 


dered that none should be brought into the country, 
then foreigners made war on us. They had better 
guns, soldiers and ships than ours, and forced the 
emperor to allow the opium to be sold — forced our 
country to buy that which makes slaves of a people 
and destroys a nation. Foreigners did it, but not 
because they love opium — they do not use it them- 
selves — but did it because they love silver. For 
silver they would ruin any people.” 

This, it must be remembered, was in the early 
days of Protestant missions in China, when very 
little had yet been heard about the true God. 
Though Roman Catholics had been for many years 
in the country, it is possible that many who had 
heard of their doctrines thought, as did the priest, 
that they were merely poor copies of Buddhism 
and schemes for getting money from the people. 

At length Mrs. Lee gave up her search, but not 
her longing, to find the god who gives life. One 
day she told her mother-in-law of the vain search. 

“ Are not the gods of the village good enough ?” 
asked the old lady. “ They are for me ; they were 
for your husband, for his father and for his ancestors 
before him. Why should they not be good enough 
for you ?” 

“ But these gods do not give life,” answered Mrs. 
Lee. “ I want to find the one who gave back the 
life to me that our cruel relatives took away. I 
want to make an offering to him and to serve him. 
Oh, where is such a god to be found ?” 


80 


CHOH LIN 


“ There is none,” was the reply. “ You were not 
dead. If one dies there is is no coming back again 
to life. You were almost dead, but our gods saved 
you that you might take care of your children. 
Don’t anger them now by seeking some other god, 
but give them your thanks. We have nothing else 
to give,” she added in a lower tone. “ Do not show 
such ingratitude as to forsake them for some un- 
known god, who neither has done you a kindness 
nor knows about you.” 

The children at first knew little about Mrs. Lee’s 
search. She told Choh Lin one day that she had 
been looking for the god who had brought her back 
to life again. 

“ I can tell you where that god is,” said he ; “ it 
is my god. You gave me to him and taught me to 
serve him, and so he brought life back to you that 
you may take care of me. When we are rich again 
I mean to make him a great feast.” 

Mrs. Lee did not care to destroy Choh Lin’s faith 
in his god, and said nothing in reply. Gradually 
her desire to find another god passed away. She 
thought that perhaps it was true that the gods of 
her own country had been her friends, yet not one 
of these was the god she wanted. 


CHAPTER X. 


POVERTY. 



FTER recovering from her wound, Mrs. Lee 


-L*- learned how poor she was. Besides herself, 
she had her two boys, her daughter and mother-in- 
law to support, and neither money nor property 
with which to do it. The mother-in-law was too 
old and the boys were too young to do much, and it 
was contrary to Chinese custom for girls of the age 
of her daughter to do any work except such as 
could be done at home. Mrs. Lee had only her 
own strength on which to depend. She was able to 
work, but there are always in China more willing 
and able to work than there is work for them to 
do. Whatever faults the Chinese have, laziness is 
not one of them. Most of the people are anxious 
to earn a living if a chance is given. Work is 
scarce and wages are low. An ordinary day-laborer 
thinks he receives good pay if he can get one hun- 
dred cash (or less than ten cents) a day. It is true, 
the common kinds of food are cheap, but a family 
of five must live very poorly to be supported on 
the wages of one laboring-man. The wages of a 
woman are even less. 


81 


82 


CHOU LIN. 


During Mrs. Lee’s illness debts for food had been 
incurred ; these must be paid. So, when able to 
work, she found herself with debts, but no money 
and almost without food. The poor woman had no 
time to mourn over her misfortune, nor could she 
give the time she wished to the search for the life- 
giving god. When there was work she could not 
leave it even for this object, and when there was 
nothing to do she seldom felt willing to go to the 
distant temples, because obliged to take a present 
for the god whose temple she visited : she was too 
poor to give more than the commonest present. 

It was not unusual for Mrs. Lee to be several 
days at a time without work, and more than once 
the last cash was spent and the last bit of food 
eaten. At such times she would go away from the 
house, and where none noticed her would sit down 
to weep. Sometimes, if a little food were left, she 
would go away before meal-time, pretending that 
some business called, and stay away in the hope 
that the rest would eat before she returned. If 
they waited, she told them on her return that she 
had eaten enough, and they must take what food 
there was at home. Little Choh Lin at such times 
coaxed his mother to take some food, refusing to 
eat until she did. His coaxing would make her 
pretend to eat, though she seldom took more than 
a little morsel. 

Not often nor long at a time during the first year 
of her poverty did Mrs. Lee’s family lack food. 


POVERTY. 


83 


Unable to buy a large quantity at a time, she must 
pay a much larger price and buy the cheapest kinds 
of food. Choh Lin hardly knew how meat tasted, 
and seldom ate fish, though fish are usually so plen- 
tiful and cheap along the coasts and rivers of China. 
Only now and then could the family have a dish of 
rice, and when they had it Choh Lin said it was 
“Om, ora,” that is, <( ‘ Water-rice, water-rice,” — 
meaning that the rice was so much mixed with 
water as to seem mostly water. 

While rice is eaten by all the Chinese who can 
afford it, there are many kinds of food much 
cheaper, and the poor people must eat many a meal 
without tasting rice. When they do have it, it is 
often cooked until it becomes what they call “ om,” 
— that is, rice very soft and almost dissolved in 
water, like a thin starch. The poorer the people 
the more water is mixed with their rice. Sweet 
potatoes form one of the most plentiful foods of 
Southern China. These are watery and stringy, or 
woody. In China, or at least in the southern part, 
they do not usually plant white potatoes, though a 
few small ones are raised for the use of foreigners. 
Beans, leeks, and a vegetable very much like our 
radish, though without sharpness, are cultivated 
and eaten by the poorer people, while melon-seeds 
and seeds of other vegetables, together with almost 
anything eatable, help to keep them from starvation. 
Nothing is wasted in China. The parts of fish and 
animals that even the poorest in our country would 


84 


CHOU LIN. 


throw away are carefully saved and eaten by the 
poor. The old pictures of Chinese selling rats and 
puppies for food may never be a reality in that 
country, yet the writer knows, from what he has 
seen, that rats and other animals not more desirable 
are eaten by some of the people. In times of fam- 
ine, and even when famine does not distress them, 
the poor gather potato-leaves and weeds, which they 
cook and eat. 

The country near the coast is overcrowded with 
people, and, though the land is fertile and the Chi- 
nese are good farmers, and though, as there is no 
winter and scarcely any frost, the land in the south- 
ern part produces two and sometimes as many as 
four crops a year, yet there is scarcely ever a time 
when some people are not starving there. 

Choh Lin learned what it is to live on poor food. 
If the two boys were unable to earn much by work, 
they helped their mother in other ways. A hungry 
boy will do a great deal to get something to eat, and 
a boy who loves his friends will do more to keep 
them from suffering. These two little fellows were 
hungry, and they loved their mother, sister and 
grandmother; they willingly did what they could 
to provide for the wants of the family. 

As Mrs. Lee was too poor to buy fuel, the boys 
were compelled to hunt wood. They could not 
pick up sticks along the roadside, since there are no 
roads in Southern China, only paths ; nor could they 
gather up broken and useless pieces of fence, as 


POVERTY. 


85 


there are no fences ; nor yet could they go to the 
woods and gather dead limbs or parts of fallen trees, 
for there are not many woods, and single trees are 
scarce ; even fruit trees are not plenty. These and 
the great banians scattered here and there over the 
country are not allowed to be cut for fire- wood. 
Fortunately, the people need little fuel except for 
cooking, as they keep warm by putting on more 
clothes rather than by making fires in the chilly 
weather of winter. The boys did, however, have 
two ways to get fuel. They lived near a bay of 
the ocean, and sometimes wood drifted ashore. For 
this they, with other children, eagerly watched. 
The smallest sticks were picked up, and he who 
could find a large one thought himself fortunate. 
As many other children went to the shore for the 
same purpose, Choh Lin and his brother very often 
found not a bit of wood. Each one tried to be at 
the water in the morning long before sunrise, and 
even before daylight, because the first there of 
course had the best chance for wood. Often the 
two brothers were roused from a sound sleep long 
before daylight to go down to the shore for fuel. 
They begged hard to be allowed to sleep a little 
longer, saying that the other children did not get 
up so early, and promising to go soon if they might 
take a little nap. The grandmother, who usually 
called them, would not listen to these appeals, but 
forced the little fellows to go at once, lest others 
should be at the shore first. Once or twice they 


86 


CHOH LIN. 


were permitted to lie still for a while, but as they 
came back each time without a particle of fuel, the 
old lady learned that if they were to have anything 
with which to cook their food the boys could take 
no morning nap. 

The other way of getting fuel was to take bags 
and a heavy hoe and go along the paths, and wher- 
ever they dared to dig up grass by the roots, and, 
shaking off the earth, to lay it out to dry. When 
ready to return they gathered up the partly-dried 
grass, put it into their bags and carried it home. 
Here it was laid out again in the sun, and when 
thoroughly dried was stored away for fuel. 

Choh Lin and Chi Lap were also obliged to hunt 
for food. Any remnant of fish or meat that had 
been thrown away by others, if at all fit to eat, was 
carried home and cooked. At low tide they gathered 
small shellfish, shrimps and whatever else might be 
eaten. On the rocks in the water were tiny oysters. 
With a little cup and a pointed piece of iron the 
two boys would go at low tide along the rocks hunt- 
ing for oysters. Most of the other children of Tay 
Soa went too, so that Choh Lin and his brother did 
not bring home much. They were thankful to 
bring home anything. 

In China small boys learn that it is not the best 
thing in the world to be small. If the brothers 
found a good place, larger boys would drive them 
away and get the oysters themselves; sometimes they 
would even take what they had gotten by hard 


POVERTY. 


87 


work. Many a struggle did the brothers have in 
their efforts to get food, and it not unfrequently hap- 
pened that, coming home with empty oyster-cups, 
they found nothing at all to eat. They bore the 
privation as well as possible, seldom finding fault, 
for they saw that the others were hungry too. 

One day, as the boys were coming home from a 
vain search for both wood and oysters, Choh Lin 
asked, “ Why is it, Chi Lap, that you and I, who 
once had plenty, must now be hungry so often ?” 

“ I don’t know,” answered Chi Lap, “ but I know 
that it is very hard to be hungry half of the time.” 

“ Do you know that I think it is because the gods 
have forgotten us,” said Choh Lin. “ They used 
to give us all we wanted.” 

“ If they have forgotten us,” replied the older 
brother, “ they are not good gods. Gods who take 
care of people when they are rich and forget them 
as soon as they are poor are little better than beg- 
gars. What is the use of worshiping them if they 
do us no good ?” 

“They do do us good,” spoke Choh Lin, “ but 
we have not worshiped in the temples as we used 
to do ; and it may be that the gods have forgotten 
us because they don’t see us any more.” 

“ Then they have no business to be gods,” an- 
swered Chi Lap, half angrily. “ We remember 
our friends, though we don’t see them for a long 
time ; and a god who cannot do as much as we is 
not worth having.” 


88 


CHOH LIN 


u You must not talk so, Chi Lap,” said the 
younger brother earnestly. “ Grandmother says it 
is wrong, and that we are already suffering because 
we don’t worship in the temples.” 

“ Oh, grandmother is old and she forgets. If 
the gods treat us in this way after all our worship 
and feasts and presents, then they are gods who will 
get nothing from me.” 

“ Grandmother and mother think that they are 
good, or why does mother go to one temple after 
another to worship them?” 

“ Shall I tell you why, Choh Lin ? No one has 
told me, but I know it. Mother is not satisfied 
with the gods since we became so poor, and she is 
looking for a better one : she calls it a life-giving 
god, but people say there is no such god. I think 
that she will soon stop going to the temples ; she 
don’t go nearly as often as she used to.” 

“ That is because she is too busy, and also too 
tired when work is done. I am tired too when we 
have done hunting wood and oysters.” 

“ So am I tired ; and, more than that, I don’t 
want to go to the temple, nor do I mean to go any 
more, unless the gods treat us better. They took 
the good things we gave them when we had plenty, 
and now, when we have nothing, they let us suffer. 
Father did not think very much of them before he 
died. He only gave them things because mother 
and grandmother said he must, and because he was 
afraid the gods might hurt him if he did not. That 


POVERTY. 


89 


is the way many other men feel, I know ; I have 
heard them talk. If other men need not worship, 
I don’t mean to.” 

Chi Lap had learned, as many other boys are 
learning from the men in China, to care very little 
for idol- worship, while Choh Lin had not yet gone 
beyond the teachings of his mother and grand- 
mother. Women are the idolaters and teachers of 
idolatry in China, while men, as a rule, only wor- 
ship the idols when they hope to gain something 
by the practice. 

Choh Lin did not give up the idea that the gods 
had forgotten him. The more he thought of what 
Chi Lap had said, the more difficult it was to un- 
derstand why the gods should forget him. It 
seemed to him unkind in them to desert him when 
he most needed their help. “ Mother,” said he one 
day, “ did not you teach me that I belong to the 
god whose name I wear?” 

“ Yes,” was the answer. 

“ Didn’t you say that the god would take care of 
me if I served him faithfully ?” 

“Yes,” replied the mother, more hesitatingly, 
“ and probably he will, after a while. He may be 
trying you now. But remember that you have not 
cared for your god of late ; you hardly ever go to 
the temple, and it would not be strange if the god 
should neglect you, since you neglect him.” 

“ Don’t he know that I am poor, and must hunt 
oysters and pick up wood, and have not time to 


90 


CHOH LIN. 


worship? If I am caring for you and grand- 
mother, that saves his doing it.” 

“That is true,” replied Mrs. Lee, “and — and — 
But I think you should not forget to worship in 
the temple.” 

“ If I am busy, and doing right too, why should 
my own god forget me? Will he not continue to 
take care of me unless I keep giving him presents ?” 

“Certainly he will,” replied the grandmother, 
who saw that Mrs. Lee hesitated. 

“ Why, then, is it,” asked the little boy, “ that 
as soon as I stop worshiping and giving presents he 
stops showing me favors ?” 

“He has not stopped,” replied the old lady. 
“You are alive and well now; you have a home 
and friends and something to eat. Some day, if 
you are faithful to him, no doubt your god will 
give you great favors again. He has only let you 
lose a few things, and still gives you many.” 

“Why did he let me lose anything?” asked the 
child. “ I was careful to serve him ; why should 
he not take better care of me ? Many boys in Tay 
Soa, who never go to the temple unless on feast- 
days, have far more than we have. It seems to 
me that we don’t get much good from serving the 
gods.” 

“ Oh, Choh Lin, you must not speak so ; it is 
very wrong,” replied the grandmother. “I am 
afraid that the gods will punish you for such 
words.” 


POVERTY. 


91 


“If they punish him for speaking so,” spoke 
Chi Lap, who had quietly listened, “ they will only 
do what they have done to him for his doing right.” 

“My son, you are speaking very badly,” said 
Mi's. Lee. “We must not serve the gods for what 
we can get ; we must do it for what they have done 
for us.” 

“ That is what I think, mother,” replied the older 
brother. “ They have let us lose our property, so 
that we have nothing to serve them with ; and the 
way for us to do is to let the gods take care of 
themselves.” 

The two women saw that it was useless to argue 
with Chi Lap. Their only hope was to keep Choh 
Lin from becoming as indifferent to the gods as his 
older brother was. 


CHAPTER XI. 


THE FAMINE. 



ROUGHTS and famines are not rare in 


U Southern China. The rainy season usually 
ends in May or June. After that, until autumn, 
and sometimes until February, rain seldom falls. 
But if storms come they are frequently fearful in 
violence, as well as in the amount of rain that falls 
in a few hours. It is during this season of the 
year that the typhoons, as they are called in China 
(hurricanes), come. These storms may last only a 
few hours, rarely more than a day, yet during one 
of them as much as six inches of rain has been 
known to fall. The typhoons do not come regu- 
larly ; occasionally several years go by without one, 
and again there will be several in a year. 

If the rainy season passes without much rain 
falling or lasts much less than three months, famine 
may follow. Since the country is so full of people, 
the failure of a single crop produces want, and 
when the two, three, and even four, crops of a year 
fail, there is certain to be great suffering. Provis- 
ions are not stored up in China by large dealers as 
in America, nor does China buy much food from 


THE FAMINE. 


93 


foreign countries. Of late years, however, since 
Choh Lin became a man, foreign merchants in 
times of scarcity buy great quantities of food else- 
where and sell it to the people. Thus foreigners 
have prevented much suffering, and yet have made 
themselves rich. 

The rice-fields of China are level spots of ground 
surrounded by a small embankment a few inches 
high and wide. The fields vary in size, from a 
small part of an acre to several acres. These fields 
are always near a stream, spring or well, from 
which is taken the water to flood them when the 
crop is growing. Usually, a number of rice-fields 
are together, and the one nearest the water is flooded 
first ; when that is full the water is allowed to flow 
into the next, and so on until all are covered. Some- 
times a little canal is made between the fields, and 
this being kept full of water and openings made in 
the banks of the fields along which it passes, the 
water runs in, and thus keeps each one full. The 
ground is usually ploughed and harrowed or raked 
when very wet or even partly under water, and the 
young rice-plants are set in the ground when it is 
flooded. A newly-planted rice-field is a pretty 
sight, with the tiny spears of green rising in regular 
rows from the sheet of quiet water. Nor does the 
beauty grow less when the tall rice, swaying with 
the wind, seems like green waves rising and falling 
in an almost hidden sea of silver. Many fields are 
made by terracing the hillsides, the smallest being 


94 


CHOH LIN. 


the highest, so that they appear like great green 
steps on the hills, growing smaller and smaller as 
they ascend. Of course there are none of these on 
hillsides that have not a spring above them. Usu- 
ally, there are rice-fields on the banks of the rivers, 
from which the water to flood them is taken. This 
is pumped up by a sort of endless-chain pump 
worked by men’s feet. 

When Choh Lin was seven years old there did 
not fall as much rain as usual in the spring, and 
with the early summer came a drought. The first 
crop of rice planted in April grew well for a few 
weeks, and then the water began to fail. The fields 
farthest away from spring and brook were shut off 
from the supply. Field after field was in this way 
deprived of water and the growing rice left to die. 
While near the failing water the fields remained 
green, farther away they grew yellow, ripening 
straw, but no rice. Soon there were great barren 
patches from which the half-grown rice had been 
gathered by the disappointed farmers. Daily the 
people watched the sky, hoping for some sign of 
rain. Clouds* now and then appeared and raised 
their drooping spirits, but passed away. The farm- 
ers went to the temples and prayed for rain. With 
empty hands, but full hearts, they gathered in the 
temples and begged the idols not to let them and 
their children starve. They gave their meagre of- 
ferings, hoping to buy what the gods were unwilling 
to give; but all in vain. Day after day the sun 


THE FAMINE. 


95 


poured his rays upon the parched earth until the 
dreary summer wore away. 

A few sheaves of ripened rice had been gathered 
here and there near the springs and streams, while 
the other fields had produced nothing but empty 
straw. The farmers had watched the growth of the 
other crops, hoping that these would live until rain 
came ; but they saw the leaves of the sweet potatoes 
curl up and the beans die, and thus crop after crop 
failed. The people dug up the small potatoes and 
ate them. The poor gathered the withered potato- 
vines and cooked them to stay the cravings of hun- 
ger. When the time for planting the second crop 
of rice came in June or July, there was no water 
for flooding the fields. The whole country was 
parched. 

Around the failing springs and wells the thirsty 
ones gathered. Well after well sent back empty 
the bucket dipped to its lowest depth ; one spring 
after another dried up ; the brooks failed, and only 
in the large streams was water to be found. At 
night the poor people gathered around the few deep 
wells containing a little water. Each waited his 
turn, and some remained until morning before they 
could get a portion, as the water would soon be ex- 
hausted, and they must wait for a fresh supply to 
run in. Even this resource soon almost entirely 
failed. The owners of the wells, finding them 
empty in the morning, shut and locked them. At 
times the locks were broken and the scant supply 


96 


CHOH LIN 


of water taken. Sometimes the stillness of the 
night was broken by the angry words of men fight- 
ing for water. 

Many poor families suffered, and so did Mrs. 
Lee’s. She could earn no money. Even had she 
had money, food was so scarce that it would have 
taken a small fortune to support a family in China. 
Begging around Tay Soa was useless, for most of 
the people were little better than beggars. Day 
after day Chi Lap and Choh Lin, with their little 
baskets, wandered wearily over the country, hunt- 
ing for weeds or something that might do for food. 
They watched the tides on the shore, and gathered 
all the oysters they could, as well as other shellfish. 
In this way the two boys did much to keep their 
family from starving. 

This struggle for life was a long and hard one, 
and it often seemed that more than one of the fam- 
ily must die before it ended. Chi Lap, older and 
stronger, was better able to endure hunger; Choh 
Lin grew thin and seemed wasting away. 

One day their mother and grandmother were 
talking of their suffering, when Mrs. Lee said, “ If 
there were only four instead of five mouths to feed 
we might live, but if we continue in this way I fear 
that little Choh Lin, the weakest, will die. There 
seems only one way to save his life : we must give 
him away to some rich man. He is such a nice 
loving boy that many will be glad to have him.” 

Chi Lap overheard his mother, and cried, “ Oh, 


THE FAMINE. 


97 


mother, do not give Choh Lin away. He is only 
a little boy ; it doesn’t take much to feed him. We 
must keep him. He is the little one ; if he is gone 
we shall all be lonely and our hearts will die. We 
cannot let him go; if we must starve, let us all 
starve together. But better times will come.” 

Again and again did Mrs. Lee talk of giving her 
little boy away, and as often was she persuaded by 
her older son to keep the little one. 

Choh Lin became too weak to accompany his 
older brother in the searches for food. One day 
his mother took the little fellow to the temple to 
pray for rain and for food. Kneeling before the 
idol, the child lifted up his skeleton hands and 
pleaded that the god would not forget and leave 
them to starve. When they were slowly walking 
back the child asked, “Mother, do you think the 
gods will let us starve?” 

“ I don’t know,” was her reply. “ I hope not, 
yet others are starving and dying around us. If 
the famine keep on much longer, I fear we must 
all die.” 

“ If we only had some money to make offerings 
to my god and give him a feast, I am sure he would 
keep us from starving. I believe he loves me and 
wants to take care of me, but it may cost so much 
that the gods cannot do it for nothing.” 

Mrs. Lee gave her little son a look of surprise, 
but said nothing, though his remark made her think, 
and she asked herself, “ Can it be true that the gods 
r 


98 


CHOH LIN. 


care only for the rich and not for the poor? Is 
there no god who cares for people without expecting 
something for it? We are taught that the gods 
care for those who make them presents; even the 
god of the beggars is their friend because they offer 
him part of what they get.” 

One day Chi Lap came in with a quick step, and 
in a cheerful voice said, “ Oh, mother, the famine 
will soon end now. The great mandarins have or- 
dered a procession to the temples to pray for rain. 
All the mandarins and nobles are to go there and 
ask the gods to bring the famine to an end. A 
proclamation has been made forbidding the people 
to take life, to kill any animals. The mandarins 
say that the gods are angry at the people for shed- 
ding blood, and therefore withhold the rain.” 

“ Have we shed any blood ?” asked Choh Lin. 

“No, child,” answered his grandmother; “we 
are too poor, and have nothing, no goat nor even 
a chicken, whose blood we might shed.” 

“ Well, I am glad the gods are not angry at us, 
then,” said the little fellow. 

“ Yet they make us suffer as much as those who 
have shed blood,” replied Chi Lap. 

“ We are all alive,” spoke the grandmother, 
“ while others have died. How do you know but 
that the gods are taking care of us, while they can- 
not help our suffering from the famine that they 
must send upon others?” 

“Well, I know what I’d do if I had my way,” 


THE FAMINE. 


99 


said Chi Lap. “ The gods make people suffer : I’d 
make the gods suffer. I would just throw their 
idols out of doors. If they will not do anything 
without pay, and then punish a lot of people for 
what one does, they ought to be punished them- 
selves. How can people help shedding blood some- 
times ? They must live and eat meat too.” 

“ Chi Lap ! Chi Lap !” spoke the grandmother, 
“be still with your wickedness. The gods will 
punish, and maybe kill us all, for what you say.” 

“ Grandmother, I am only saying what I have 
heard men say,” replied the boy. “If I am so 
wicked, they must be, yet the gods do not punish 
them.” 

“ Perhaps the gods have sent this very drought 
because of their wickedness,” replied the grand- 
mother. “ When I was a child we never heard 
such things said of the gods. Then every one 
spoke of them in reverence, and men worshiped as 
well as women. Now people speak ill of the gods. 
Some great calamity will surely come to our nation 
for this.” 

Although the procession was made in the city, 
the drought and famine continued for months, nor 
did they stop until the rainy season of the following 
spring. 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE DOGS. 

T HE boys had kept their dogs after the property 
was taken. From being plump and fat, the 
creatures became lean as the dogs of the street. The 
boys tried to save some of their own food to give 
their pets, but Mrs. Lee forbade this, and threatened 
to have the animals killed if Chi Lap and Choh 
Lin gave them food. 

Some of the neighbors, who knew that the boys 
did not have enough to eat, asked, “ Why do not 
you kill and eat your dogs? Kill them, cook them. 
Dog-meat is better than beggar’s meat” (hunger). 

u We will not kill our dogs,” answered Chi Lap; 
(l they are too good. If they did not forsake us 
when we needed them, we will not forsake them 
when they need us.” 

When Choh Lin understood what was meant he 
ran to his own dog, and, throwing his arms around 
his neck, said, “ No, Kailo, we will not kill you. I 
will keep you until I am a man ; then I will feed 
you enough to make you fat again.” 

Each morning, when the boys started on their 
errands after fuel or food before the drought began, 
100 


THE DOGS. 


101 


the dogs accompanied them. No matter how early 
the little fellows started, the dogs were at the door 
to welcome and go with them to the shore or field. 
Until the famine began the animals managed to 
lind food enough to keep from actual starvation, 
but with the scarcity the poor creatures grew thin 
as skeletons and were unable to run as once they 
did. If the dogs or the boys were fortunate enough 
to find anything that could be eaten, the poor brutes 
devoured it as though afraid the little would grow 
less for every second it remained uneaten. What- 
ever the boys found fit to eat, and that they could 
possibly do without, they gave to the dogs. Often 
much of the time spent in hunting for wood was 
really spent in searching for something with which 
to feed the starving brutes. 

The dogs seemed to understand the feeling of 
their young masters and gratefully took the little 
food given. Had they been like the street-dogs of 
China, they would not only have stolen something 
to eat wherever they could find it, but might have 
attacked each other or have tried to kill and eat 
their young masters. Naturally gentle, affectionate 
and obedient, starvation did not change the nature 
of the faithful brutes. Sometimes Choh Lin, sit- 
ting down in the sand on the shore, would take his 
dog between his knees, and, looking into his eyes, 
would try to encourage him with a hope of better 
times: “ Poor Kailo ! you won’t be thin and hun- 
gry then, will you? No, old dog, you’ll have 


102 


CHOH LIN. 


enough then ; and it won’t be bits and bones, either, 
but you’ll have rice and fish and meat — good meat, 
too. Won’t that be good, old dog?” 

The affectionate creature looked into the face of 
his master as if he understood all and only lacked 
words to answer. Tenderly he would lick the bare 
arm resting on his neck or rest his head against the 
boy’s knee, while he looked wistfully into the thin 
face before him. 

One morning the boys missed their dogs; not 
daring to call loudly, lest other boys should hear 
and hurry to get first to the shore, the brothers 
hastened to the water, expecting to find their dogs 
waiting for them on their return. But no dogs ap- 
peared as they came home, nor had any of the family 
seen them. Calling did not bring them; so the boys 
started on a search for the animals. After looking 
a long time and calling often, they heard the low 
bark or cry of a dog. Running to the place whence 
the sound came, they found Chi Lap’s dog lying 
stretched out and dead, while the faithful Kailo lay 
beside him. The poor fellow wagged his tail fee- 
bly, as if to welcome his young master, and then in 
a low moan seemed to try to tell that his friend was 
dead. Sorrowfully the boys kneeled beside the dead 
brute and mourned as though he were a brother. 
Looking up through his tears, Ch oh Lin said, “ We 
have but one dog now, Chi Lap ; he is only half 
mine, the other half is yours. Kailo is our dog 
now. We will take care of him — won’t we, Chi 


THE DOGS. 


103 


Lap?” And then, taking Kailo’s head between his 
hands, the little fellow said, “ You must not die ; 
we cannot do without you, Kailo.” 

When the first burst of sorrow was over the boys 
talked about what had caused the death of the dog, 
not thinking that he had died from hunger. 

“ He always was a good dog,” said Chi Lap, 
“ and when his soul is born again into another 
body, it will not be as a dog. I think he will be 
even better than a girl. He’ll be a boy like you 
and me, Choh Lin.” 

“ Do you think we will know him, Chi Lap?”- 
asked the younger brother. 

“ I do not know,” replied the other ; “ perhaps 
he will know us. A baby-boy may be born whom 
we like very much, and in it will be the soul of my 
dog.” 

“ Where has his soul gone now, Chi Lap?” 

“ I don’t know. Perhaps it has gone up in the 
air, where the clouds are.” 

“ What are souls?” 

“ Souls are — they are — ” and Chi Lap hesi- 
tated. “Souls are the clouds from which all the 
rain has fallen. The body is the rain, and the 
soul is the cloud when the rain has gone out of 
it.” 

Choh Lin asked no more questions. Probably 
he knew as much as he did before he asked his 
brother. There are other people besides Chinese 
boys who cannot describe the soul. 


104 


CHOH LIN 


After talking till they, for the time, forgot their 
sorrow, Chi Lap said, as he pointed to the dead dog, 
“ But we must bury him, or some people who are as 
hungry as we will find San and eat him. There is 
not much of him left except bone and skin, but he 
was too good to be eaten.” 

“ Where shall we bury him?” asked Choh Lin. 
“ Shall we carry him to some hill where they bury 
people?” 

“ No,” replied the other, “ he is too heavy to 
carry ; we will bury him right here. He came here 
to die; maybe he chose this place because he thought 
it a lucky spot. No one will find his body here. 
You stay here and watch until I can go for a hoe 
with which to dig his grave.” 

“ No,” replied the little fellow, “ I do not want 
to stay here alone ; the black-faced man may get me 
if I am here.” (When the Chinese wish to frighten 
their children they tell them that the black-faced 
man will get them.) “Let me go home with you. 
Kailo will stay here and watch by San — won’t you, 
Kailo?” The feeble wag of the dog’s tail and a 
weak effort to lick his young master’s hand were 
the dog’s answer. But he was too weak to get on 
his feet to follow the boys. 

Choh Lin would neither stay nor go alone, so the 
two boys started to get a hoe with which to dig the 
grave, leaving Kailo to watch by his dead compan- 
ion. On their way the boys resolved to say nothing 
about the death of Sa«. 


THE DOGS. 


105 


“ Mast not we tell mother or grandmother ?” 
asked Choh Lin. 

“ No,” replied the older brother ; “ if they don’t 
know they can’t tell. People will ask where my 
dog is, and if they find out they will dig him up. 
Don’t tell anybody where San is.” 

“ I won’t,” replied the little fellow, pressing his 
lips together — “ not even if they whip me for it.” 

When they reached home Chi Lap was sent off 
on an errand at once. It kept him away for some 
time. Choh Lin waited impatiently for his return, 
and was ready with a hoe as soon as Chi Lap came 
back. 

“ Where are you going with that hoe ?” asked the 
grandmother as she saw the two boys starting off. 
“ Bring it back and give it to me, and you boys go 
down to the water ; the tide will soon be low enough, 
so that you may find shrimps or crabs.” 

Not daring to tell their object, the boys reluctant- 
ly obeyed, and, taking their basket, went down to 
the shore. 

“ Kailo will take care of San,” said Choh Lin 
hopefully, “and we’ll come back as soon as we can, 
and then go to bury the good dog.” 

“ Where will we get a hoe ?” asked Chi Lap. 
“ If grandmother were not so harsh I would have 
told her about San.” 

“ No matter, Chi Lap,” said the other, taking his 
older brother by the hand as they walked along; 
“ we can borrow a hoe somewhere, I know.” 


106 


CHOH LIN . 


“ Yes, but mother and grandmother won’t let us 
go unless we tell them. Perhaps they won’t let us 
go even then.” 

“I will tell you what we can do: we won’t go 
home from the shore, but go around and borrow a 
hoe from somebody at the other end of the village, 
and then we can bury San.” 

“ I am afraid no one will let us have a hoe.” 

“Let me tell you what we. can do, Chi Lap. Let 
us tell Jip ; he won’t let any one know. He is our 
friend, and he liked Sail too ; he will get his father’s 
hoe and help us.” 

“That’s so; we can do that.” And more cheer- 
fully the two boys went down to the water. They 
met Jip there, and told him the story of San’s death, 
and asked if he would help bury the dog. 

“ Poor old San !” said Jip ; “ he was such a good 
dog ! ' I am sorry he is dead. Yes, I can get a hoe, 
and will help you bury him.” 

As soon as they could the three boys left the wa- 
ter and started on their sad errand. As they were 
going Jip asked, “ Haven’t you any paper-money 
and other paper to put on San’s grave?” 

“ No, we didn’t think about that,” answered Chi 
Lap. “ Do you think we ought to put paper there? 
A dog’s spirit won’t know how to use it in the 
other world?” 

“We don’t know how much a dog’s spirit knows 
when it gets out of the body,” replied Jip. “ I 
would put paper on the grave.” 


THE DOGS. 


107 


“We haven’t any,” answered Choh Lin. 

“ And that isn’t the worst of it : we have no cash 
to buy it,” said Chi Lap. 

“ I have some cash at home,” replied Jip ; “ we’ll 
take that.” 

“We can’t pay you back, Jip,” said Chi Lap; 
“ at least not till we are richer than we are now.” 

“ That makes no difference,” answered Jip ; “ let 
San be my dog too.” 

The paper was bought; Jip got the hoe, and the 
three boys started for the grave. 

This paper, that is made to imitate money, cloth- 
ing and other things, is put on the grave of the 
dead in the expectation that when it disappears 
from the grave it will be found in the spirit- world, 
and there be real money and clothing and other 
necessary things for the use of the spirit on whose 
grave it was first placed. 

When the boys came in sight of the dogs they 
saw Kailo stretched out beside his dead companion. 
He took no notice of their approach, though Choh 
Lin called him bv name. “ See, Kailo is asleep,” 
said the little fellow to the others. Kailo was 
asleep, but it was the same slumber that had come 
to San before. Lying side by side, the two dogs 
were dead. It was a sad discovery for Choh Lin. 
Sitting down beside the body of the brute, he 
stroked the head, wetting it with his tears as he 
mourned over his dead friend. The two bereaved 
young masters sat each beside his own, and Jip 


108 


CHOH LIN 


stood near by, looking on in sad silence. There 
were tears in his eyes too. 

After waiting a while he walked a little way 
from the boys and began digging. Chi La]) soon 
followed him and helped at the work, the two mean- 
while talking of the good qualities of the dogs. 
When a place deep and broad enough to contain 
the bodies of the dogs had been dug they came to 
Choh Lin, who still sat stroking the head of his 
dog, though silently now, and Chi Lap said, “ Now, 
Choh Lin, the grave is ready; shall we bury San 
first? he died first.” 

Without replying the little fellow arose, and Jip, 
who acted as undertaker, tried to fold San’s fore feet 
over his breast. The boy had thoughtfully brought 
with him two long pieces of cotton cloth ; these he 
put around the body as the Chinese place ropes 
about a coffin, toward the head and toward the feet. 
Then, placing the hoe-handle through the pieces of 
cloth, whose ends were tied together, he motioned 
to Chi Lap to put one end of the handle on his 
shoulder, and, Jip taking the other, the two carried 
the dog to the grave, and then, removing the bands 
of cloth, came back for Choh Lin’s dog. When 
this had been prepared in the same way Choh Lin 
said, “ Let me help carry Kailo.” 

The two dogs were laid side by side in the ground. 
“ Shall we have the ceremonies?” asked Jip, looking 
at the other boys. 

“ I think we ought to bow once,” said Chi Lap. 


THE DOGS. 


109 


“I mean to worship just as if it were my 
brother,” spoke Choh Lin. 

Stepping back from the grave, first Chi Lap and 
afterward Choh Lin, approached and bowed each 
three times; Jip, out of sympathy for his friends, 
imitated them, and then said, “ Now shall I cover 
them ?” 

The dogs were soon covered, the paper scattered 
over the grave, and then the boys slowly started 
homeward. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


BOYS’ TROUBLES. 

C HOH LIN did not soon forget the death of his 
dog. Indeed, twenty years after, when a Chris- 
tian preacher, he told the author with no little sor- 
row the story of the famine and the burial of the 
dogs. 

It was a joyful time in Tay Soa when the first 
rain fell after the famine. When the cry, “ Haw 
lai ! v (Rain comes), was shouted in the streets every 
one rushed out to see the welcome sight. The wast- 
ed faces turned upward to catch the first drops, 
while the despairing look that had been on nearly 
every face gave place to smiles of gladness. The 
rain began in earnest, and the people saw that there 
was a prospect of a great rainfall. 

One shower followed another in rapid succession, 
hardly giving the farmers time to plough or plant 
between them. But rain was so welcome that none 
seemed to fear it. Not stopping to think of the 
wetting they would get, the men began to work as 
soon as the ground was moist enough. They seemed 
to forget, too, their weakness and hunger in the 
prospect of soon having an abundance of food, 
no 


BOYS’ TROUBLES. 


Ill 


While the men went to the fields the women went 
to the temples to offer their thanks to the gods. 
Choh Lin and his brother took their share in the 
general rejoicing. Though almost starving for lack 
of food, yet with plenty of water they seemed to 
feel stronger. 

“ Oh, mother,” said Choh Lin a few days after 
the first rain, “ the grass is coming out ; we will soon 
be able to pick green leaves and blades of grass, 
and not be obliged to cook dried ones any more. 
My god has at last heard our prayers, and now 
we will have enough to eat again.” 

“ He has taken a long time to think about hear- 
ing your prayers,” replied Chi Lap, good-naturedly. 
“ If he had waited a little longer he need not have 
done it at all. We should not have required any- 
thing to eat in this world. But he seems to have 
cared for others as much as for you.” 

“ Well, he is a good god,” said the smaller boy; 
“ he does care for all.” 

“ That may be,” answered Chi Lap, “ but I see 
that most of the people thank the other gods for 
rain. Would it not be well for you to tell them 
that they are thanking the wrong god?” 

“ Choh Lin is right, as are the other people,” 
spoke the grandmother. “ All the gods have joined 
together and answered the prayers for rain ; they are 
good to those who serve them.” 

“ That is, to those who lived through the famine,” 
said Chi Lap in a lower tone. “If people, instead 


112 


CHOH LJN. 


of dying from starvation, would just wait, they 
might learn how good the gods are.” 

Food did soon become more plenty. That which 
had been hoarded was now brought out. Since 
there was a prospect of enough before long, each 
one who had more than would be needed tried to 
sell at the high prices. These soon came down, and 
not only was there more to be bought, but it could 
also be bought with less money. Mrs. Lee found 
all the work she could do, and Chi Lap, who had 
grown large enough, to help, also earned money. 
The work of wood-gathering and hunting for food 
was given almost entirely to Choh Lin, who with 
more food soon became quite strong again. At first 
he feared to go alone, but gradually became used to 
it and went cheerfully to his work. He did not 
find it as pleasant, however, to hunt for wood as 
when his brother was with him. The other boys, 
taking advantage of his small size, gave the little 
fellow no small trouble. 

One day, on his way home from the shore with a 
bundle of sticks, he sat down to rest. Near him 
was a peg driven in the ground to which a cow was 
tied to eat the grass. Hardly thinking what he did, 
the boy took a stick from the bundle and began tap- 
ping on the top of the peg. Soon rapid footsteps 
were heard behind him. In a moment the little 
fellow was on his feet, but not soon enough to es- 
cape one of his tormentors. A large boy who dis- 
liked Choh Liu came up and gave him a severe 


BOYS’ TROUBLES. 


113 


kicking for trying, as lie said, to break the peg. 
The big fellow did not own the cow, but here was 
an excuse for hurting the small boy without run- 
ning any risk of being hurt in return. 

Many a time did Choh Lin receive knocks and 
kicks from the larger boys. They stole his wood 
and took away the oysters and crabs he had gathered, 
and when he struggled to keep his property they 
pushed him down and beat and kicked him for 
fighting. This was not because he had so many 
enemies, but because in Tay Soa, as in many other 
places in China, there were two parties among the 
boys. The side to which Choh Lin belonged was 
not only smaller, but composed of smaller boys, so 
that the little fellow and his relatives were worsted 
in more than one fight. They did not, however, 
often come to blows, though now and then there 
was a real fight between the two sides. Boys as 
well as men in China are less willing to fight than 
people are in America. When they have battles, 
they prefer to fight with their tongues; this does 
not hurt much, and such battles can be fought at 
any time or place and yet the fighters not be unfitted 
for work afterward. These tongue-battles between 
the boys’ parties sometimes ended in real battles. 
Stones were flung, sticks were used, fists and feet 
were brought into the fight, and sometimes there 
were bloody noses and bruised bodies before the 
belligerents separated. 

The most of Choh Lin’s trouble came when he 


8 


114 


CHOH LIN. 


was alone. If his older brother were with him, the 
larger boys usually let him alone. 

More than once, Choh Lin, after telling the story 
of his wrongs, added, “ I wish I were a man ; then 
they would not knock me around as they do now.” 

Chi Lap would say, “ Wait until we are men ; 
then we will pay them back.” 

The sister often wished herself a man to take the 
part of her brothers. To her words of sympathy 
Choh Lin replied one day, “Fm glad that you are 
a girl and must stay in the house. No one can 
harm you. I almost wish that I was a girl too ; 
girls don’t get kicked and knocked around as we 
do.” 

“ I’ll tell you what we can do,” replied Chi Lap. 
“Our sister will soon be old enough to be married; 
then mother must marry her to a very big man, and 
he can give those boys one of the hardest beatings 
they ever had, and you and I, Choh Lin, will just 
look on and see it.” 

“ There is a better way to punish your enemies,” 
said the grandmother. “ You are not strong enough 
to punish those boys, but others are.” 

“ Who, grandmother?” asked the boys. 

“ If I tell you, Chi Lap will only mock at what 
I say,” replied the old lady; “ but I will tell Choh 
Lin : he knows how to respect the aged.” 

“ I do respect the aged,” replied Chi Lap. “ Do 
not I always treat you kindly, grandmother?” 

“Yes, you treat me well enough,” replied she, 


BOYS’ TROUBLES. 


115 


“ but it is not of myself that I speak. There are 
beings greater far than I, whom you treat with dis- 
respect.” 

“ Whom do you mean?” asked Chi Lap in won- 
der. 

“ I mean the gods,” was the reply. “ You speak 
of them as though they were of no more account 
than slaves.” 

“ I do not mean to mock them,” answered Chi 
Lap. “ The gods may be good enough, but I do 
not quite see their goodness. I only say what the 
men say of the gods, anyway.” 

“ Yes, and we who serve them faithfully must 
suffer for what you and such men say of them. The 
white crow must starve in the black one’s famine.” 

Chi Lap made no reply, and the grandmother, 
turning to Choh Lin, continued : “ If you go to the 
temple and pray to the gods, they will punish your 
enemies. Tell your own god that he must take care 
of you ; and if the bad boys continue to abuse you, 
then ask him to punish them severely ; yes, tell him 
to kill them.” 

“Oh, grandmother,” said he, “I don’t want 
them to be killed. If the god would punish and 
make them cry twice as bad as they make me cry, 
that would be enough.” 

“ How would it do,” asked Mrs. Lee, who had 
listened, “ to ask the god to make the boys your 
friends ?” 

“Do gods ever do that?” asked Chi Lap. “I 


116 


CHOH LIN 


thought they punished the bad, rewarded the good 
and took care of their friends, and that is all. I 
did not know that they cared at all for bad people, 
except to let them go on and grow worse and worse 
until they could not stand it any longer ; then they 
suddenly threw them down into the dark prison for 
the bad. ,, 

“ That is what the gods do,” replied the grand- 
mother. “ They do not make bad people good nor 
good people bad ; that is the work of people them- 
selves.” 

“ I wish the gods would help people to become 
better,” said Mrs. Lee with a sigh. 

Not long after this talk Choh Lin asked his 
brother, “Chi Lap, will you make a kite for me? 
The other boys have kites ; it is kiteflying-time, and 
I want a kite too.” 

“What kind do you want?” asked the older 
brother. 

“ Just the best one you can make,” answered 
Choh Lin. “ Make a big bird — one that will fly 
very high and pull hard at the string.” 

“ All right !” replied Chi Lap. 

This custom of flying kites is quite common in 
Southern China. In the city of Foo Chow (recent- 
ly attacked by the French), some distance north of 
Tay Soa, the ninth day of the ninth month is ob- 
served as a special day for flying kites. At Tay 
Soa and Amoy the spring is the kiteflying-time. 
The kites are made in all kinds of shapes — some 


BOYS’ TROUBLES. 


117 


like fish, others like birds, others like snakes, and, 

indeed, like almost anything else that the ingenious 

Chinese can think of imitating. 

© 

A bird-kite was made for Choh Lin, and the 
little fellow, with his friend Oan and two or three 
other boys, went out to fly it. Some of the larger 
boys of the other party were out flying kites, but 
had none as fine as that of Choh Lin. Chi Lap 
could do well whatever he tried, but he was more 
skillful in kite-making than in anything else, as 
this kite proved. 

When the small boys appeared with the fine large 
kite, the larger boys tried to coax its owner to trade 
it off for one of theirs. Failing in that, they of- 
fered to buy it, but Choh Lin was unwilling to part 
with it. Determined to get the better kite in some 
way, yet unwilling to take it from him by force, 
they tried to persuade him to make his kite fly a 
race with one of theirs. One of them said, “ Choh 
Lin, let us see whose kite can fly the best? If 
yours can, then you may take mine, but if mine 
flies the highest, then I will take yours.” 

The little fellow was unwilling to try this, but at 
length consented ; the kites went up, and Choh Lin’s 
went higher than any others. 

“ There, Tun !” cried he, “ my kite is the highest. 
Yours can’t go as high as that. But you can keep 
your kite ; I don’t want it.” 

“ Oh yes, take it,” whispered Oan ; “ it’s yours 
now ; then give it to us.” 


118 


CHOH LIN 


“Tun, Choh Lin has won your kite,” said one of 
the little boy’s friends, “ so hand it over to him.” 

For a moment the larger boy hesitated, and then, 
one of his friends whispering to him, he spoke: 
“ Right ! Choh Lin’s kite has won. I don’t want 
to give up mine, but it’s fair. — Here, Choh Liu, 
take the string; I will not pull it down. Now let 
me hold the string of yours for a while.” 

Without thinking, the little fellow took the cord 
of Tun’s kite, handing that of his own to the larger 
boy. Tun took it and walked slowly away, flying 
the kite as if it were his own. In a few minutes 
Choh Lin handed the string he held to Oan and 
went to Tun and asked for his own kite. 

“ This is not yours,” replied the large boy ; “ it is 
mine now.” 

Choh Lin’s entreaties and threats were of no 
avail. Tun’s friends sided with him, and there 
was no help for the smaller boys. Choh Lin was 
obliged to give up his own and take the poorer kite; 
but kiteflying had no further interest for him now. 
Taking hold of the string, he pulled down the kite, 
and, carrying it in his hand, started with his friends 
for home. They had not gone far, muttering and 
threatening what they would do to the larger boys 
as soon as a chance offered, when Oan, seeing some 
stones in their path, said, “ Here’s a chance now. 
Let us throw stones at their kites and break them.” 

“ We can’t hit them; they are too high,” replied 
Choh Lin. 


BOYS’ TROUBLES. 


119 


“ Well, we can hit the boys, if we can’t the kites,” 
said one of the others ; “ let us try.” 

The kite was dropped, and in a moment the little 
fellows caught up several stones each, and, running 
back a short distance, began throwing at the larger 
boys. Fortunately, the aim was bad and not a 
stone struck the mark. But those who held no 
kite-strings did not wait to be hit: they started 
after the small boys, chasing them some distance. 
Choh Lin and his companions in their haste neg- 
lected to take up the kite, and the larger boys car- 
ried it back as their own. 

After this the little fellow was careful to make 
no bargains and to have nothing to do with the 
larger boys. Perhaps it saved him from falling 
into the practice, common among boys as well as 
men in China, of betting and gambling. 

One day in the autumn some of Choh Lin’s 
friends met him and said, “ There is a man down 
street who has a whole tubful of crickets to sell; 
let us buy some and have a cricket-fight.” 

“ I haven’t any cash,” replied he. 

“I have,” answered Chiap, “ and will lend you 
some ; then you can pay me back when your mother 
gives you money.” 

“ But she does not give me any money,” replied 
he; “she is too poor yet.” 

While they were talking Chi Lap came along. 

“ Here comes your brother ; he’ll let you have 
cash,” said one of the boys. 


120 


CHOH LIN 


“ I don’t want to fight crickets/’ replied Choh 
Liu. 

“ Don’t want to ? Why, it’s fun,” said the other ; 
“ come along and try. You don’t want to because 
you do not know about it. Chi Lap will — won’t 
you, Chi Lap ?” called out Chiap. 

“ Do what ?” asked he. 

“ Fight crickets. There’s a man down street who 
has a whole tubful. They are fine strong young 
crickets, and he sells them cheap, too. Let’s have 
a cricket-fight. — What do you say, Chi Lap?” 

u Where is the man ?” asked he eagerly ; and the 
boys hurried down the street to the cricket-seller, 
Choh Lin following more slowly. 

Crickets were bought, placed in a box and the 
boys hastened away to have a cricket-fight. A 
basin was brought and set on the ground. Chiap 
and Chi Lap then sat down on opposite sides, and 
each put a cricket in front of him in the basin. 
The two boys then bet each several cash that his 
own cricket would be the best fighter. Some of the 
other boys who had followed bet, some on Chiap’s 
and others on Chi Lap’s cricket. When all were 
ready the two boys, each with a straw, began teasing 
his cricket until the two insects became angry, when, 
uttering loud chirrups, they sprang upon each other. 
Then began a battle between the little creatures that 
would have been terrible if they had been large. 
The boys crowded around the basin and jostled each 
other as they eagerly watched the fight, each seem- 


BOYS' TROUBLES. 


121 


ing nearly as much excited as the crickets. They 
cheered and shouted, and urged the enraged insects 
on in the battle. Though each little creature had 
a leg torn off, both kept on with the desperate com- 
bat. At length Chi Lap’s cricket stopped fighting, 
and soon ceased struggling; he was dead. 

Chiap had won Chi Lap’s cash, and others who 
had bet on his cricket lost their money too. 

“ I mean to try it again, Chiap,” said Chi Lap, 
“ if you will.” Another fight was soon arranged 
for, the money staked and the battle begun. This 
time Chiap’s cricket lost two of its legs, and was 
forced to try to escape, and Chi Lap was the winner. 

Since each had won a battle, the third must be 
fought. This Chi Lap gained. By this time the 
rest of the boys were ready to try a cricket-fight. 
They tried to persuade Choh Lin to buy a cricket, 
or at least bet on one, but he remembered his kite 
and refused. He even tried to persuade Chi Lap 
to stop, and threatened to tell their mother, but the 
elder brother had caught the excitement of gam- 
bling, and he would not stop until all the crickets 
had fought. After losing and winning, and in the 
end losing not only the price of the crickets, but 
some money besides, Chi Lap went home with his 
younger brother somewhat discouraged with gam- 
bling. 

Choh Lin told their mother, who scolded her 
eldest son and forbade his gambling again. This, 
however, did not prevent him, but it did stop his 


122 


CHOH LIN 


gambling when Choh Lin was by, and made the old- 
er less willing to have the company of his younger 
brother. 

Boys very early in life learn to gamble in China ; 
nor is it strange : they see men every day engaged 
in it. High and low, rich and poor, are gamblers. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


CHOH LIN AT SCHOOL. 

W HEN Choh Lin was nine years old his mother 
felt able to send him to school. He was a 
bright boy, and every one thought that he should 
learn to read. When told that he was to be a 
school-boy, he was greatly pleased. Perhaps he 
thought that now his days for hunting wood and 
gathering crabs and oysters were over, but he was 
glad to go to school. He wanted to be able to read 
the story-books of his country, and then, too, it 
would be something new. 

When the school began he started in the morning 
with the others. Without books or slate, with no 
dinner-basket on his arm, he entered the school- 
room. It was dark and gloomy, its walls were almost 
black with smoke ; its only windows were two square 
holes with wooden bars across, high above the reach 
of the scholars. There were a few desks or tables 
and some wooden benches without backs in the 
room ; these, with the teacher’s desk and chair, were 
the only furniture. 

The school was soon called to order by the teach- 
er, who tried to put on a very wise look behind his 

123 


124 


CHOH LIN. 


large spectacles. Choh Lin as he looked at him felt 
that he was in the presence of the wisest man in 
China, and one who probably knew all there was to 
be learned. He wondered if he ever would know 
one-half as much as the sober schoolmaster, and de- 
termined to try to take in all the learning his head 
would hold. When the scholars were all seated the 
teacher called one to him, and, taking a book, read 
a sentence or two from it, and had the boy repeat it 
correctly after him ; then he sent the pupil to his 
seat to repeat again and again the same words. Then 
another was called, and his lesson read to him in 
the same way ; he in turn was sent back to his seat 
repeating it. In this way all were called, until each 
had his lesson given. All were soon in their seats 
studying and repeating their lessons at the top of 
their voices, as if each were trying to drown the 
voices of the others. Swinging themselves back and 
forth on their seats and shouting with all their 
might, the scholars seemed to be doing anything 
else than studying ; yet this, the Chinese think, is 
the true way to study. Each by shouting out his 
own lesson will be unable to hear what others say, 
and will not be attending to that with which he has 
no business. Besides, the teacher can tell by the 
noise how much studying is being done. 

As soon as a boy had learned the lesson he went 
to the teacher, and, handing him the book, turned 
his own back on the master; then in a rapid way 
he rattled off from memory what had been learned. 


CHOH LIN AT SCHOOL. 


125 


A new lesson was given in the same way as the 
first, and the pupils went back to their seats to 
shout it into their memory. 

Such was the school to which Choh Lin went. 
Like many others in China, little else was taught 
in it than reading some of the old books of the 
country and writing. Arithmetic, geography, his- 
tory and other studies, so important in American 
schools, had little place there. If able to do as 
well as their forefathers did thousands of years ago, 
the Chinese usually are satisfied. 

After the other boys had their lessons given, 
Choh Lin’s turn came. The teacher called him up, 
asked a few questions, praised him, and then gave 
him, like the others, a sentence or two to learn, only 
it was easier than what the older boys had. He did 
not begin at the alphabet, because the Chinese lan- 
guage has no alphabet — no letters at all. Nor did 
he need to learn to spell. The people of Choh 
Lin’s country never spell in their own language; 
the words are already spelled out and ready for the 
scholar to begin to read them. Instead of being 
made up of letters, the words are made up of dots 
and marks, straight and crooked arranged in differ- 
ent ways. But every child in America probably 
has seen Chinese characters, or words, on tea- boxes, 
if nowhere else. Those are real Chinese words — 
just like the words in their books. If some boy 
thinks that it must be easy to learn to read, since 
there are no words to be spelled, let him think that 


126 


CHOH LIN. 


Chinese words are hard to remember because there 
are so many of them. There are at least ten thou- 
sand in common use, and each one different from the 
others, yet many so alike that one is often mistaken 
for another. Imagine how hard it would be to 
learn to read a language that had several thousand 
letters, and each made up of a number of marks, 
some of very many. The fact is, that there probably 
is no written language so difficult to learn to read as 
the Chinese. One may be learning a lifetime and 
yet not know nearly all the words in the books for 
the use of common people. 

When Choli Lin went to his seat, reciting the 
words the teacher had read, the little fellow felt as 
if he had grown six inches since he came into the 
schoolroom. He was a scholar in a school with 
other boys. He had a book of his own, and, more 
than that, was studying a lesson given by a real 
teacher — a man who wore spectacles, and large ones 
too. Proud Choh Lin ! He saw himself there a 
student and becoming learned and great. The 
teacher had told him that by diligent study he 
would some day become a learned man, a graduate, 
and then an officer of the government, and then — 
But the boy’s imagination could not go farther. He 
knew of the mandarins who ruled over the portion 
of country to which Tay Soa belonged ; he had 
heard of the Tau Tai, or district magistrate, and 
knew that there was such a being as a governor- 
general of the province; but the emperor — of course 


CHOH LIN AT SCHOOL. 


127 


lie had heard of him — whether he was a real god 
or part god and part man Choh Lin did not know. 
He certainly did not think of being emperor some 
day, any more than he did of being a god, nor did 
he know enough about a governor-general to think 
of being one when he was old enough; but he did 
think that he might some day become a siun hang , 
an under-mandarin, or a mandarin’s secretary. 
Great plans were formed in that little head as he 
walked to his seat and began to study. He would 
be great, and then he should be rich, and thus have 
plenty of money. Then his mother, sister and the 
rest would have plenty to eat, no matter how much 
famine there might be, nor need they work any more. 

In thinking and planning the little boy did not 
forget his lesson. He kept repeating it over and 
over in a low voice, not daring to shout out as the 
rest did. He was afraid of his own voice, but as 
he thought more of his plans and heard the voices 
of others ringing in his ears, he tried to study loud 
too, and raised his voice ; but the noise made by the 
others drowmed his own, and he spoke louder, then 
louder and louder, until his voice rose as high as the 
rest; then Choh Lin was content. He was a full 
scholar now, and could shout as loudly as any. He 
tried to shout a little louder, but it soon made him 
hoarse, and he was obliged to be less a scholar, 
though he swayed himself back and forth, just as 
he saw the others do, until there was danger of 
his falling off the bench. 


128 


CHOH LIN. 


Choh Lin now knew his lesson, and had known 
it for some time, but hardly dared go to the teacher 
with it. Finding enough courage at length, he 
gathered all he had and boldly walked to the teach- 
er’s desk ; handing the book, he turned his back and 
began to recite. He went through the whole, though 
it was not much, without missing a w r ord. 

“ Ah ! you have done well to-day for a new 
scholar,” said the teacher. “ Some day you will 
know by heart many books if you keep on in this 
way.” 

The tremble he felt when he came to recite had 
all gone out of the little boy’s knees now, and all 
the flutter out of his heart. He felt proud of the 
teacher’s praise, and determined to be a scholar 
equal to the teacher himself. A new lesson was 
given to be speedily learned and well recited. Choh 
Lin did not understand why he was praised less for 
this than for the first ; so he took his seat after the 
second recitation with less pride ; but at the end of 
the day he had made good progress for a beginner, 
and was quite well pleased with being a school-boy. 

As he went along the street he wondered if 
people did not look at him and say, “ Choh Lin 
has become a scholar. He will be a great man 
some day, perhaps a graduate and a high manda- 
rin.” 

He had a great deal to tell at night about the 
school. His mother, grandmother, brother and sis- 
ter were almost as proud of the young scholar as he 







The Young Scholar. 


Page 129 




















CHOU LIN AT SCHOOL. 


129 


was of himself, and were ready to listen to his plans 
for the future until he talked of being a very great 
man; then Chi Lap told him that “the little bird 
chirruped loudly in the nest, but chirruped louder 
to get back when the nest was gone.” 

Chi Lap’s remarks usually of late quieted the 
younger brother in his plans. The two loved each 
other, no doubt, as much as ever, but the older 
brother, being more at work and among men, 
thought it his duty to say wise things to the young- 
er one. 

Choh Lin went to school day after day, nor did 
he grow tired of study. Sometimes he did wish for 
si day when he might rest, but those days are few 
in China — no Saturday of play for the scholars, 
and no Sabbath of rest. Now and then a feast-day 
comes when the schools are closed, but usually they 
are open day after day. The Chinese, having no 
Sunday, have no weeks ; their time is divided by 
days, or literally suns and months, or moons. 

As the little boy talked more with the boys at 
school, his thoughts were more fixed on becoming 
rich than on becoming great. Since he noticed how 
his mother and Chi Lap must work to earn money 
for food and clothing for the family, he determined 
to be rich and pay them back some day. “ Mother, 
you and Chi Lap work on yet a few years,” said he 
one day, “ until I have learned enough at school ; 
then I will go to work and earn money enough for 
us all. The boys at school all mean to be rich when 
9 


130 


CHOU LIN. 


they can read well ; so do I. It will be very easy 
to get money then. All rich men can read many 
books, and poor men can read none. Learning to 
read does it; so the boys and the teacher say.” 

He thought that learning to read books written 
many hundreds of years ago would in some way 
give him power over money. The older he grew 
the more he determined to become rich. Nor was 
it strange. He had learned by a terrible experience 
what the poor must suffer, nor had he forgotten the 
comforts that wealth gives. 

When Choh Lin had gone to school a short time 
he was told to bring writing-material, so that he 
might learn to write. Some paper, a writing-stone, 
a cake of ink, a tiny water-pot and a pointed brush 
of fine hair were bought for him, and he was ready 
to become a writer. When he brought these the 
teacher took the little pot, and, filling it with water, 
poured some into a hollow place in one end of the 
stone, and then, taking the stick of ink, he dipped 
the end in the water and rubbed it on the stone, 
thus inking it. He then took the brush, which 
was a hollow stick of bamboo about as thick as a 
goose-quill, in one end of which was a bunch of 
soft hair that tapered down to a point. This end, 
when the brush was not in use, was kept covered 
by a small cap or piece of bamboo large enough to 
slip on the handle. Taking off the cap, the teacher 
dipped the brush in water, touched it lightly on the 
inked stone, and began writing on the paper some 


CHOH LIN AT SCHOOL. 


131 


Chinese words for the little boy to copy. After 
writing a few simple ones he gave Choh Lin the 
brush and, showing him how to hold it, told him 
to write the words. He made slow and rough work 
at first, but, encouraged by the teacher and the other 
boys, he soon learned to make something that looked 
like the copy. 

After a while Choh Lin was taught to add and 
subtract, but not much more of arithmetic. For 
nearly a year he continued at school, studying every 
day except on feast-days. He never played truant, 
for he was too anxious to learn ; besides, he liked to 
go to school, where he could be with other boys, 
and where the teacher would prevent their taking 
advantage of his size. 

Mrs. Lee was pleased to hear from the teacher of 
the progress her boy made, and would gladly have 
continued him at school had she been able. The 
teacher said all the good he could of Choh Lin, 
since, he wished to have as many pupils as he could 
get. Since each one paid for his own tuition, the 
more scholars the more money for the master. But 
what he said of Choh Lin was meant to be the truth. 
The little boy had become a great favorite with the 
teacher. He was well behaved and made rapid 
progress in his studies. 

At the end of the year Mrs. Lee found herself 
unable to keep her son at school. She and the 
teacher regretted it, but none felt so sorry as Choh 
Lin. With the end of school he saw his bright 


132 


CHOH IJN. 


hopes disappear ; and, more than that, he was obliged 
to go back to his old work of hunting for wood and 
oysters, crabs and other food. 

Another drought had begun. Work was scarce, 
food was rapidly growing dearer, and both boys 
were needed to help keep the family from starva- 
tion. Fortunately, the drought did not last as long 
nor was food as scarce as during the former famine. 
When the rain fell again, Choh Lin was disap- 
pointed at not being able to go back to school. Un- 
able to study without a teacher, he forgot much of 
what he had learned. 

After the second drought Chi Lap, who had now 
become quite a large boy, concluded that Tay Soa 
was a good place for famines not only, but a good 
place to move away from ; so he determined to go 
down to the large city of Amoy, about a dozen miles 
away, and see if he could not find something to do 
there. He went down on one of the boats going to 
Amoy, and came back with the news that he had 
found something to do. He was going to the city 
as a peddler, to sell candies and other good things for 
those who had a sweet tooth. To start would take 
but little money, and he had been told that he could 
earn considerable at it. His mother was willing to 
let him try, while the grandmother opposed it, and 
Choh Lin felt that he could not let his brother go. 
But Chi Lap did go, and stayed in Amoy too, com- 
ing home now and then for a day or two. 


CHAPTER XV. 


STONING THE DEVIL. 

O NE day a number of the men in Tay Soa were 
talking together earnestly about a disease raging 
in some villages not far away. As usual, the stories 
of the ravages of the disease had grown by travel- 
ing. Some said that many were sick and some had 
already died, while others said that half the people 
were sick and that a great number were dead. It 
was said, too, that the disease was spreading to the 
different villages and approaching Tav Soa. This 
last news had aroused the people to great excitement, 
and they were considering what should be done to 
keep the disease from their village. 

“ What can we do ?” asked one. “ If the evil 
spirits choose to send such calamities, we must sub- 
mit and suffer. If we are to die we must die, and 
that is all we can do.” 

“ What do you think, Uncle Kim ?” asked one of 
the younger men of an old man in the group who 
had stood by quietly listening, but now and then 
shaking his head at remarks that seemed to displease 
him. “ You are older than we, and far more wise ; 

1 M 


134 


CHOU LIN. 


do you think that we can do anything to prevent 
this disease reaching Tay Soa?” 

u I think we can keep the disease away from our 
village,” he replied, “ but the disease is not so much 
to be dreaded as something else.” Then he stopped 
and looked as wise as he could at one and another 
of the company. 

“ Something else? What else, Uncle Kim?” 
asked several voices at once. “ Please tell us. You 
are wise ; years have taught you many things ; let 
us drink from the fountain of your wisdom.” 

After waiting a while and looking at one and 
another, the old man began : “ Disease is not so bad 
as that which brings it. All such evils are only 
weapons of the bad spirits, who use them to tor- 
ment us. We cannot see evil spirits — we can only 
see their acts — but we can feel them ; and unless we 
do something soon we shall feel one act of the evil 
one more than we have felt for many days.” 

“ But what can we do?” asked many eager voices. 
u Can we do anything to keep away the evil?” 

“ Yes,” replied the old man ; “ but when I tell 
it you will not heed. Many years ago, when the 
fathers lived, we had not such calamities as now 
visit our country. Then all was happiness and 
peace. The fathers knew how to care for them- 
selves and their children, but we have gone from 
their wisdom into ignorance and sorrow.” 

“ What did the fathers do ?” asked an impatient 


one. 


STONING THE DEVIL. 


135 


“ Keep silence/’ said another, “ and let age and 
wisdom speak.” 

Uncle Kim began again : “ All evil comes from 
the devil. He hates men and wishes to cause them 
pain and misery, but if he sees them in trouble and 
in great suffering, he lets them alone. He is con- 
tent if they suffer, no matter who brings the suffer- 
ing.” 

“ What do you mean, venerable Uncle Kim ?” 
asked a young man. “ Kemember, some of us are 
but youthful ; we have only read a few characters 
in the child’s book, while you have searched through 
the great volumes of deep wisdom.” 

“ Oh, there is no need of telling you, young men ; 
you are giving up the customs of our fathers, and 
all are suffering for it. If you would learn wisdom 
from the past, all might yet be well.” 

“ Uncle Kim, please tell us what customs we 
should follow, and we will gladly go back to them,” 
said one of the older men. “ No doubt we have 
gone astray, but now we come back as children to 
learn lessons from a father, and here we wait for 
him to teach us, and we will follow.” 

"In the time of the fathers,” said the old man, 
“ they tried a way to keep off disease and other 
evil, and it succeeded.” 

As he stopped a moment, one man, impatient and 
ready to show his wisdom, asked, “ What was it? 
Did they offer sacrifices to the evil spirits?” 

“ No,” continued the old man ; “ sacrifices to the 


136 


CHOH LIN. 


devil are useless. He cares nothing for what we 
offer, but for what we suffer. Give sacrifices to the 
gods and human blood to devils.” 

“ What do you mean ?” asked one who seemed 
startled. 

“ To escape the torments of the devil we must 
take the work out of his hands,” replied Uncle 
Kim. 

“ How can we do that ?” was asked. 

“ By causing each other to suffer.” 

“ In what way ?” 

“ This is the way the fathers did,” continued the 
old man, “ as they told me when I was a child: 
They gathered on the plain, and, dividing into two 
parties, they separated a little distance and then be- 
gan throwing stones at each other. Often men were 
hit, wounded, and some were even killed. The dev- 
il, seeing them fight in this way, thought that they 
were enemies and would do each other all the injury 
necessary without his help, so he let them alone.” 

“ Did they not have any sickness then ? Did not 
people suffer and die ?” asked a young man. 

“ Some of them did,” was the reply, “ but not as 
many as now. The devil can work far more evil 
than we can.” 

“ Do you mean,” asked one, “ that we are to stone 
each other to death to save the devil the trouble of 
killing us?” 

“Do you believe that any of us will never die?” 
was the answer. 


STONING THE DEVIL. 


137 


“ Do you mean that the devil will let us alone if 
we hurt each other enough ?” asked another.' 

“ Certainly,” replied Uncle Kim. “ That is the 
way the fathers did ; and if we would live as hap- 
pily and as long as they, we must do as the fathers 
did.” 

“ That may be all right,” spoke a young man, 
“ but I don’t see why we should do the bad work 
of evil spirits. It is enough that we suffer from 
them, and not do their work too, and that upon our 
own friends and relatives.” 

“ It is not in that way that we are to look at it,” 
said an older man. “ As I understand Uncle Kim, 
we must, by doing some of the devil’s work, keep 
him from doing any of it, and so escape a great 
deal of trouble. — Is it not so, venerable uncle?” 

“ Right! right!” replied the old man. “ Besides, 
it is better to recei ve wounds at the hand of a friend 
than of an enemy.” 

“ Uncle Kim is right,’’ said a man who had until 
now been silent. “ When we take the matter into 
our own hands we control it.” 

“ Why need we hit each other at all ?” inquired 
a man. “ We may stand far off and throw stones 
without hurting any one.” 

“Yes,” said another, “and we need not throw 
heavy stones nor take good aim, either.” 

“ You are young and I am old,” spoke Uncle 
Kim. “ Take the advice of an old man : Not 
stones, nor throwing them, will satisfy the devil, 


138 


CHOH LIN 


but the pain we suffer, the wounds we receive, the 
blood spilled, — only these satisfy the evil ones/’ 

Some of the Tay Soa boys, Chi Lap among them, 
heard this consultation, for it took place before he 
went to Amoy ; and the boys held a council too. 
They, however, waited and listened quietly until the 
men had decided on the time and place when they 
would “stone the devil,” as it was called. When 
all arrangements had been made by the men the 
boys made their plans. They agreed to follow the 
men and wait until the battle was fairly begun, then 
take part in it. Some knew of certain men whom 
they would try to hit if a good chance offered. 

When both consultations were over Chi Lap hur- 
ried home and told his younger brother of the pro- 
posed fight, and urged him to go along to see men 
stone the devil. 

“ Stone the devil?” repeated Choh Lin ; “ how can 
they see him to hit him?” 

“Oh, they don’t hit him, but they throw stones 
at each other to save him the trouble. I think that 
each one supposes the other is the devil, and so tries 
to hit him.” 

Chi Lap told what he had heard, and of course 
his little brother was eager to go along. When the 
time came for the stoning the grandmother, seeing 
the two boys start away, called them, “Where are 
you going ?” 

“ Going to see the men stone the devil,” was the 
reply. 


STONING THE DEVIL. 


139 


“ ( Stone the devil ’ !” said the old lady. “ Do 
they mean to do that here ? Then there is safety. 
If the people are coming back to the old customs, 
the favor of the gods will come back to us. But 
do you boys mean to throw stones with the rest? 
You must not,” said she, changing her voice to one 
of command ; “ you will be hurt, perhaps killed.” 

“ Well, if we are killed,” said Chi Lap, half in 
sport, “ it will save the lives of others. It it be 
good to throw stones and hurt people, then it must 
be good for us to do it, and good for us to be hurt.” 

“ No, no ! Let others suffer, but not yourselves.” 
Not until the boys had promised to keep entirely 
out of the way of the stones would she allow them 
to go. 

The men had gathered when the boys reached 
the place, and were dividing into two parties. It 
was a large level spot of ground where they had 
met, and stones were plenty. After dividing, the 
two parties separated about a stone’s throw ; when 
all were ready one side began throwing stones at 
the other; these were speedily flung back. At first 
each side seemed careful not to hit any in the other 
party, but some were hit ; this made them a little 
angry, and those struck became willing to let the 
other side suffer. Stones were thrown with more 
violence and better aim. The parties grew excited 
and the battle became a real one. Many bruises 
were given and received, blood flowed, and some 
were forced to leave the field, yet the battle kept 


140 


CHOH LIN. 


on. Instead of stoning the devil, the men stoned 
each other, and in earnest too. The fight did not 
last long. Three lay on the field helpless and seem- 
ingly lifeless. When their friends noticed their 
condition they called to the others to stop, but they 
did not, and more cuts and wounds were given. 

At length the battle ceased. Four now lay on 
the field as if dead. Around them friends gathered 
and spoke, but received no answer except a groan 
from one of them. The other three were senseless, 
and one of them lifeless. The dead and the wound- 
ed were carried from the field to the village amid 
great lamentations. The grief, no doubt, was sin- 
cere, but all felt grateful that some had been hurt, 
and each was thankful that the wounded did not 
include himself. One of the three borne from the 
field alive died before morning, and a few days after 
a third one gave up his life, while the fourth slow- 
ly recovered. Others who had been wounded car- 
ried the marks for many days ; some never lost the 
scars. 

The stoning was a subject for talk among the 
boys for many a day. Some thought it noble, 
while others regarded it as great fun, but a few 
thought it a terrible thing and very cruel. The 
tender heart of Choh Lin was greatly affected by it. 
When he talked to his grandmother he spoke of it 
sometimes with tears. “ Why is it, grandmother,” 
said he, “ that people must hurt each other in this 
way to please the evil spirits? Why do not the 


STONfNG THE DEVIL. 


141 


gods keep the evil spirits away ? Why do not they 
take care of the people instead of allowing them to 
fight each other ?” 

“ There are two kinds of spirits,” said the grand- 
mother — “ the evil and the good. The gods and 
the good spirits on one side are fighting against the 
devil and the evil spirits on the other. If the gods 
and the good spirits should always have their way, 
the evil ones would mass together and produce some 
dreadful calamity. The way to keep the evil ones 
from this is to pretend that we are their friends and 
do the work that they like to see.” 

“ But, grandmother,” said the child, “by doing 
this work the people are forgetting the gods and 
serving their enemy.” 

“ My son,” said the old lady, “ we can sometimes 
best serve our friends by seeming to be their en- 
emies.” 

“ Do you mean that by stoning each other we are 
doing each other service ?” 

“ Yes,” replied she ; “ by hurting some we save 
many from being hurt much more by the evil one. 
All he wants is to see us in trouble, to see us suffer; 
and if he sees us injuring each other, he sits down 
and rests.” 

Chi Lap had his own views of doing the work 
of the devil. “ That may do for his children,” said 
he, “but not for the children of men. If the evil 
one wishes to see us injured, let him do it himself, 
and not set us at it, and then give us no pay except 


142 


CHOH LIN 


wounds, bruises and death. Let those who will, do 
the work of the devil ; I will not.” 

With great show of sorrow the dead were buried. 
The people felt that they must make all the greater 
mourning to let the evil ones see how much they 
suffered. There were others besides Chi Lap who 
regarded this whole proceeding as foolish, but the 
great majority looked upon it as a noble act, while 
a few of the aged rejoiced to see a revival of one 
of the old customs of their country. 

There may be a gradual change of customs 
throughout China, but it is very slow, and in many 
places the customs of thousands of years ago are 
yet followed by the people. It is only in and near 
the seaports, where the people have mingled with 
other nations, that there has been much change of 
customs. Whether this strange and foolish super- 
stition of stoning the devil was ever common 
throughout China the author does not know, but 
it certainly was very strong many years ago in the 
country around Tay Soa, and of late years it has 
been revived. One of these attempts at doing the 
work of the devil the writer saw on the plain north 
of Tay Soa some years ago. 


CHAPTER XVI 


REBELLION AT AMOY. 

TXjTE go back in our story two years and take the 
^ * reader to the city of Amoy, about twelve or 
thirteen miles from Tay Soa. 

Amoy is built on the landward side of the island 
bearing the same name. The people call the island 
and city A Mung in the spoken language, though 
some Chinese speak the name very much as we do, 
and thus foreigners have got the name Amoy. In 
the written language, which is the same all over 
China, the name is u Ha Bun,” though the meaning 
is the same as Amoy — “ mansion-door that is, 
Amoy is the mansion-door of China, or its principal 
opening. Until lately it was the chief naval station 
of the empire. 

Amoy City contains about two hundred and fifty 
thousand inhabitants, yet so compactly built is the 
town and so narrow are the streets that the whole 
city does not cover much more than a square mile 
of ground. It is a walled town, but the larger part 
of it lies outside the walls. Every old Chinese city 
has high walls surrounding what was the city in 
former years. But as towns grow and walls do 

143 


144 


CHOU LIN. 


not, many of the cities have by far the larger part 
of their inhabitants outside the walls. Within the 
walls the mandarins, or officers, live, and there the 
soldiers are usually stationed. 

Besides the walls, Amoy has gates at the ends of 
its streets, which are shut at night and opened at 
daylight, so that none can enter the city or go out 
after dark. 

In the spring of 1853 rumors reached Amoy of 
the approach of a rebel army whose purpose was to 
capture the city. It was during the great Tai-Ping 
rebellion, which came so near destroying the present 
Chinese government. Armies of rebels were moving 
in different directions, capturing the cities that lay 
in their way. Word reached Amoy that one of 
these armies was coming to the coast. There was 
great excitement in the city, and it was feared that 
there would be terrible fighting, as there was an im- 
perial army in the town and a number of war- ves- 
sels lay in the harbor. The people professed to be 
loyal to the government, but many at heart were 
friends of the rebellion. 

Not long after the report of the approach of the 
rebels their army appeared. The mandarins boasted 
of what they would do to the “ long red-haired rob- 
bers,” as they called the rebels, and some believed 
that the government soldiers would be able to keep 
the invaders out of the city. 

Late in the afternoon the rebels came in sight of 
the city. Nothing was done to prevent their enter- 


REBELLION AT AMOY. 


145 


ing the harbor from the river on the west. The 
soldiers of the government remained in the walled 
part of the town, and the mandarin fleet lay at an- 
chor north of the city. The gates of the city-walls 
were closed, however, and all the gates of the streets 
shut. 

Early the next morning the rebels were found on 
the island of Amoy. They had landed not far from 
the government fleet. Not a war- vessel had opposed 
their landing, not a shot had been fired. Not only 
were the rebels on the island ; they were in front of 
the city, and ready with the light of day to make 
an attack on the gates of the streets. But they 
found no need of that. All the street-gates stood 
open before them. Early in the morning the rebel 
army entered the city, and without bloodshed took 
possession of the un walled part of the town. The 
people quietly received their new masters. The 
walled part of the city was still closed to the invad- 
ing army. The four gates were kept securely fast- 
ened and strongly guarded. After taking full pos- 
session of the rest of the town, the rebels marched 
to the walled part and began an assault on three of 
the four gates. The fourth they neglected as though 
it did not exist. Not a rebel soldier was seen near 
it. After a short assault the three gates gave way 
and the attacking army entered. Not an imperial 
soldier was to be seen inside. The fourth gate stood 
wide open, and through it might be seen the rear of 
the government army hastening to the war- vessels 
10 


146 


( !HOH IJN. 


in the harbor. Every soldier and every mandarin 
had escaped, and all were soon on board the govern- 
ment vessels, which weighed anchor, hoisted sail 
and moved away, leaving the city entirely in the 
hands of the rebels. Not a man was killed and 
only one or two wounded in the taking of the city. 
The rebels were delighted, most of the people satis- 
fied and the imperial army not greatly troubled. 

Why the mandarins so readily gave up the city is 
uncertain. Perhaps they had heard so much of 
rebel victories that they dared not meet them ; and 
it is possible that some of the officials of the gov- 
ernment made enough money by delivering up the 
city to the rebels to make defeat easy to bear. Bat- 
tles more bloodless and more successful can be fought 
in China by silver than by the sword. 

It is not rare for attacking armies in China to 
neglect one gate of a walled town. The reason 
given for this is that a rat, when he finds a hole for 
escape, will run away, but when all ways of escape 
are cut off he will fight. 

Not long did the rebels peaceably hold possession 
of Amoy. When the news reached Pekin the man- 
darins were ordered to retake the city at once. 

Two weeks after the government fleet sailed 
northward from Amoy, there came a fleet of im- 
perial war-vessels into the same harbor from the 
south. The mandarins tried to enter the harbor 
and take the city by surprise, but the rebels knew 
of their coming and knew their plans. Instead of 


REBELLION AT AMOY. 


147 


coming in front of the city, the vessels anchored 
some distance away, and at once the soldiers landed 
and marched to assault the place on the side away 
from the water. As they advanced, sure of victory, 
they were suddenly and furiously attacked by rebel 
soldiers hidden in the valley south of the city. 
Partly recovering from the surprise, the mandarins 
tried to urge on their soldiers to battle. Many did 
stand, but they were too much frightened to fight 
with any hope of success, and soon the battle became 
a rout. The government soldiers fled, some toward 
the city, others to the vessels. Those who reached 
the war-vessels went away with them as soon as 
possible; those who found no hiding-place in the 
city were caught and held as prisoners, if not killed. 

This was a very different battle from that by 
which the rebels took the city, as the many wound- 
ed and dead proved. Not content with driving off 
the mandarin army, the rebels determined to capture 
every soldier hiding in the town. Little bands of 
victors after the fight marched through the streets 
searching for fugitives ; whenever one was found he 
was hurried off to the walled part of the town, there 
to be held for a ransom if unwilling to turn rebel, 
or put where he would never fight rebels any more. 

All the afternoon of this day the rebel soldiers 
were searching houses or marching through the 
streets with their prisoners. The excitement was 
great. The shouts of the victorious soldiers, the 
screams of terrified women and the cries of fright- 


148 


CHOH IAN. 


ened children made the people almost wild with 
terror. 

This day, as well as that on which the rebels cap- 
tured the city, was the Sabbath — a day like others to 
nearly all the people in Amoy, but there were a few 
to whom it was a sacred day. About ten years be- 
fore, missionaries from America, and later from Eng- 
land, had come to Amoy to preach the gospel, and 
at this time there were quite a number of Christians 
in the young churches established in the city. These, 
after morning worship, were startled by the firing 
and the noise of battle, and later heard the shouts 
of the victorious rebels as they pursued the fugitive 
soldiers. An officer of the defeated army, Sok Tai 
by name, came to the door of the house of the Rev. 
John Stronach, an English missionary, and begged 
to be saved from the vengeance of the rebels. Sok 
Tai, though an officer in the army, was a Christian 
and well known to Mr. Stronach. The good mis- 
sionary at once took the man into his house and 
promised to protect him. Soon after the rebel sol- 
diers appeared at the door and asked for the officer 
hidden there. The missionary told the soldiers that 
they had no right to enter his house, and that he 
would not give up to them any good man who asked 
for protection. In vain the soldiers pleaded and 
threatened ; the fugitive was not given to them. 
Mr. Stronach was so well known in the city as a 
good and brave man that the rebels dared not at- 
tempt to take the hiding soldier from his house. 


REBELLION AT AMOY. 


119 


They feared not merely the missionary, but the 
English nation. Wishing to keep the friendship 
of foreigners, the soldiers left the fugitive in Mr. 
S tron ach’s charge for the time. Afterward the 
rebel officers demanded Sok Tai from the mission- 
ary, but the demand was met with a polite though 
firm refusal, nor could anything that was said or 
done compel the brave missionary to give up to 
death a man who had been doing his duty in fight- 
ing against the enemies of his country. Not long 
after, Mr. Stronach sent his charge by a foreign ves- 
sel to Shanghai, where he remained until the rebels 
left the city, when he returned, gave up his position 
in the army and became a preacher of the gospel. 
He was until lately, and may yet be, a preacher in 
one of the churches of Amoy, where he has done 
faithful service in trying to bring the same city to 
his imperial Master, Jesus. 

Arrangements had been made for a baptismal 
service that afternoon in the first Christian church 
of Amoy. The Christians from all parts of the 
city had been invited to be present to unite in the 
service connected with the baptism. When news 
of the battle reached the missionaries, and they saw 
the excitement in the city, they feared that it would 
be impossible to hold the service. People were 
hiding everywhere, while excited men were rushing 
through the streets. Soon after came the shouts of 
the victors as they chased fugitives through the 
streets or led captives to the walled part of the town. 


150 


CHOH LIN ; 


This seemed anything but the time for a religious 
meeting, yet the missionaries, thinking that a few 
Christians might gather, went to the church intend- 
ing to hold a prayer-meeting with those who might 
attend. When they reached the place they found a 
number of people waiting for them, and among 
them the converts who were expecting to be bap- 
tized. The excitement of battle could not keep 
them away from the house of God at such a time as 
this. Water was brought, and amid the shouts and 
uproar of the streets these who a short time before 
had been heathen were consecrated to God and his 
Church by baptism. It was a sacred, a precious ser- 
vice, though they did not know but that it would 
be their last together on earth. As the frightened 
sheep draw nearer together and gather closer about 
the shepherd when they hear the howl of the wolf, 
so did these followers of Jesus draw nearer together 
and closer to the Great Shepherd as they heard the 
wild screams without. 

After this battle the imperial soldiers, learning a 
lesson from their defeat, prepared more deliberately 
to capture the city. For four and a half months 
they were gathering soldiers and making elaborate 
preparations for another attack. The people of 
Amoy knew that when it came the capture of the 
city would not be a bloodless one. There were 
gloomy forebodings. Many consultations did the 
Christians hold and many were the prayers offered 
at the mercy-seat. 


REBELLION AT AMOY. 


151 


It needed all the shrewdness of a Chinaman’s 
nature to pray just right — not so much as it regarded 
God, but as it regarded man. The sympathy of the 
people was largely with the rebels, while the rebels 
were warm friends of foreigners and of the mission- 
aries, and seemed to be very favorable to Christian- 
ity. To pray against such an army was a difficult 
thing for the Chinese Christians. The mandarins 
were opposed to foreigners, to missionaries and their 
religion, so that to pray for the national government 
was a severe tax for the faith of the converts. But 
as the missionaries had taught them to respect and 
pray for their rulers, the people did not know what 
else to do. The missionaries wisely said as little as 
possible about the rebellion. Quietly attending to 
their duties, they left the affairs of the nation in the 
hands of others, looking to God to overrule all for 
the good of the people and the furtherance of his 
cause. 

At last the imperial fleet sailed into the harbor 
from the south and, passing around Ko-long-su, a 
small island in the harbor and half a mile west of 
the city, anchored at the mouth of a creek north of 
the town. An army landed and encamped near the 
walls of Amoy. The rebel fleet was anchored in 
front of the city and not far from the anchoring- 
place of the mandarin vessels. After the army had 
landed the imperial fleet hoisted anchor, and, sailing 
down toward the rebel vessels, discharged a broad- 
side at them; then, sailing off to the westward, 


152 


CHOM LIN 


it came back to its anchorage again. As soon as 
wind and tide permitted the rebel fleet hoisted an- 
chor, and, sailing toward the enemy’s fleet, fired a 
broadside and came back to its anchoring-ground. 
Day after day, if wind allowed, was this saluting, 
for it proved little more, kept up. Now and then 
a ball struck a vessel, more by accident than because 
of correct aim, and usually the result of each broad- 
side was a bloodless victory, though to which side 
it would have been hard to tell. The rebels, not 
having enough men to garrison the city and at the 
same time keep up the battles on the water, were 
forced to gather on board their junks when the tide 
and wind suited, and after the brief fight hurry 
ashore to be ready to repel any attack that might 
be made on land. 

The real fighting, though, was done from the 
walls of the city and the decks of the vessels when 
the guns were silent. This was done not with can- 
non or musket, nor yet with arrow nor dart, but 
with the weapon that of all kinds the Chinese sol- 
diers know so well how to handle — the tongue. 
With their tongues sailors and soldiers kept up, 
when near enough to be heard, an almost ceaseless 
fire. Every kind of evil name of which they could 
think — and Chinese can think of a great many — 
they called the opposing forces. Had it been possi- 
ble for hard names to kill or even wound, then 
there would soon not have been a soldier to handle a 
gun nor a sailor to hoist an anchor either in defence 


REBELLION AT AMOY. 


153 


of or for the capture of the city. No name seemed 
so well suited to the rebels, in the opinion of the 
mandarins, as “Ang-thau Chhat” (“ red-headed 
robbers”), while the rebels all agreed in calling the 
other side “ Kwoan Chhat ” (“ mandarin robbers ”). 

Their guns not being of the best nor their courage 
the greatest, this method of warfare suited both sides, 
and for six weeks it was continued on the water, 
while the mode of fighting on land was not very 
different. The imperial soldiers would come near 
enough to the city to allow their musket-balls to fall 
short of the walls, and the rebels on the fortifications 
fired back with the same bloodless effect. 

One morning very early there was a great com- 
motion within the walls as the rebel soldiers marched 
out and through the city and down to their vessels. 
They embarked in sight of the imperial fleet, hoist- 
ed anchor and hurriedly sailed away, leaving behind 
some of their number who had for different reasons 
been delayed. The government vessels remained at 
anchor and did nothing whatever to hinder the es- 
cape of the rebels. As soon as they left the city the 
mandarin army marched in and took possession. 

Now began a massacre. The capturing forces at- 
tacked the few rebels they found and cruelly butch- 
ered them. Every one else who seemed to offer 
resistance was at once killed, while many a one, 
neither soldier nor rebel, was without any reason 
murdered. It was necessary for the credit of the 
victors to report to Pekin that after a long siege the 


154 


CHOH LIN. 


city of Amoy had been taken, but only taken after 
a terrible battle in which a great number of the 
enemy were killed. The greater the number of 
slain the more would seem the courage of the con- 
querors. The rebels were cruel, but the mandarin 
soldiers were far more so. It is not the truly brave, 
but the cowards, who are cruel. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


MRS. LEE FINDS THE LIFE-GIVING GOD. 

fTlHE news of the capture of Amoy by the rebels 
reached Tay Soa the same day. The Tay Soa 
passenger-boats hurried away from the city as soon 
as they could, and reported that an immense num- 
ber of rebels had captured Amoy and driven away 
the government soldiers. Proof of this soon fol- 
lowed, as the government fleet was before long seen 
to sail around to the north of Amoy Island. 

Some were well pleased to know that the rebels 
had come so near and had so easily driven out the 
hated mandarins, while a few were troubled. They 
did not wish to see the government overthrown, and 
asked only for peace. They had seen enough of 
the clan-wars, or battles between the people of dif- 
ferent families and villages, and thought that if 
such small wars proved so destructive to property, 
a war between the whole government and a large 
army of rebels would be worse. But a great many 
did not care. They had little to lose, and war 
might give them a chance to gain something. 

Chinese know very little about true patriotism or 
love of country. While they believe theirs to be 

155 


156 


CHOH LIN. 


the best country of the world, they do not deem the 
mandarins the best rulers. They know that many 
are dishonest, cruel and care little for the country 
or the people if themselves may but gain plenty 
of money. While there are officers in China, and 
probably many, who are true patriots, most of the 
people, at least of the lower and middle classes, be- 
lieve that their rulers love money more than any- 
thing else ; nor are they far wrong. Why should 
they think otherwise? The people themselves love 
money even more than Americans do — can more be 
said ? — and they judge their rulers by themselves. 

The capture of Amoy gave the people of Tay 
Soa much to talk about and the timid ones many 
an anxious thought; but when the boats went safe- 
ly to and from Amoy after the rebels had posses- 
sion, their fears slowly passed away. After the de- 
feat of the government soldiers in the battle of 
A-Mung-Kong those who were friendly to the 
rebels were not slow to speak. They prophesied 
that soon the government of the whole country 
would change hands and that the rebel leader would 
become emperor. It was said that the rebels were 
enemies of the gods, and that they worshiped a for- 
eign god, and if successful would force all the Chi- 
nese to give up the worship of their gods. 

“ If they are enemies of the gods,” said Choh 
Lin’s grandmother, “ then the mandarins will de- 
stroy the long-haired * robbers. Any people who 
* When China was conquered by the Mantchu Tartars, about 


FINDING THE LIFE-GIVING GOD. 


157 


fight the gods fight against themselves, and should 
be overthrown.” 

“ They may be overthrown,” spoke Chi Lap (this 
was before he had gone to Amoy), “ but it will be 
because they have not enough soldiers, rather than 
because they have not enough gods to help them. 
Gods that cannot take care of people when there is 
peace will not be likely to do so when there is war.” 

“ You are a bad boy,” replied the old lady 
angrily ; “ I only wonder that the gods let you live 
at all. I hope that they will teach you to speak 
better of them, and that — that — that they will over- 
throw the rebels and let you, and such as you, see 
that the gods are mighty.” 

When the news of the retreat of the rebels reached 
Tay Soa the old lady was happy. She said that the 
gods had at last shown whom they would help. Chi 
Lap had little to say, though he did not believe that 
the gods of China had much to do with the failure 
of the rebels. He only wondered why they, who 
had so successfully held the city, did not fight a 
battle before giving it up. 

It was some time after the mandarins had recap- 
tured Amoy that Chi Lap went to the city to be- 
come a peddler. Perhaps the removal of her son 

two hundred and fifty years ago, the people were ordered to 
shave their heads, and only allow the hair on the crown to grow 
long and be braided in a queue as now. The Tai-Ping rebels 
did not shave their heads, but allowed the hair to grow long - 
hence they were often spoken of as “the long-haired rebels” 
and “long-haired robbers.” 


158 


CHOH LIN. 


gave Mrs. Lee a new idea. In Tay Soa and the 
villages near considerable cotton cloth, or muslin 
— more than was used by the people — was woven, 
and some of it was sold elsewhere. Mrs. Lee saw 
that some was taken to Amoy for sale, and thought 
that she might try to make a little money in this 
way. This seemed much easier than working in 
and around the village wherever she could find em- 
ployment. 

She bought some cotton cloth from her friends 
and started one morning in a passenger-boat for 
Amoy. She had been to the city before, and had 
no difficulty in finding a sale for her goods. Sell- 
ing for a fair profit, she determined to try again, 
and soon had quite a trade. But she bought more 
than cloth; she also took eggs and poultry, as well 
as other things, for sale in Amoy ; and after a while 
one and another of her friends in Tay Soa had her 
make purchases in the city for them. As she made 
a profit on what she bought as well as on what she 
sold, she could thus comfortably support herself 
and her family. 

Chi Lap, being now in the city, took care of him- 
self, so Mrs. Lee had only four instead of five to 
support. Choh Lin, however, was unable to go to 
school, much as he wished to learn, because he was 
needed at home while his mother was away, nor 
were they yet rich enough to get along without his 
help in gathering fuel and oysters and other articles 
of food. 


FINDING THE LIFE-GIVING GOD. 159 

Tay Soa was on a bay that became bare at low 
tide, so that boats were compelled to go out and 
come in with high water, and were thus obliged, as 
tides came about an hour later every day, to start 
sometimes very late in the day and again very early 
in the morning. Nor could they leave Amoy un- 
less the wind was favorable until the tide ran toward 
Tay Soa. Even if they did go homeward before 
the tide suited, they must wait some distance from 
home until there was enough water in Tay Soa Bay 
to sail up to the landing. Hence passengers were 
often obliged to stay in Amoy several hours, and if 
a very strong north-east wind blew they had to stay 
a day or more in the city. 

One day Mrs. Lee, after having sold her goods, 
while waiting for the boat to start, took a walk 
through the city. She had heard that foreigners 
lived in the city, and she wanted to see one of their 
homes. Having friends in Amoy, she persuaded 
one of them, who lived not far from the home of 
the American missionaries, to take her to the place. 
Accompanied by a little girl, the two women went 
to the house of the missionaries. It was a Chinese- 
built house, somewhat changed and enlarged. The 
missionaries lived in the second story, while on the 
ground-floor was a chapel. The chapel-door stood 
open as the two approached, but no one was in the 
room. It was full of benches, and Mrs. Lee ex- 
claimed as they entered, “ Oh, see how many seats 
the foreigners have ! How many of them there 


Cl I OH UK 


1(50 


must be! What a large room! how high and 
light ! But what is that at the other end ?” 

Her friend could not give very satisfactory an- 
swers to her questions, but suggested that this was 
perhaps a “ worship-hall.” 

“ What !” spoke Mrs. Lee, “ is this where the for- 
eigners worship their gods? or do they keep the 
tablets of their ancestors here? I would like to 
see their gods; but where are the foreigners?” 

Her friend had heard of the chapel and worship, 
but could not sav anything about it from what she 
had seen. While they were talking the Chinese 
chapel-keeper appeared, and, greeting them respect- 
fully, asked what they wanted. 

“ Oh, nothing,” replied Mrs. Lee ; “ we only came 
for amusement.” 

“ This is not a place for amusement,” said the 
man, “ but a place to hear the doctrine.” 

“Very well, then, we will hear the doctrine,” 
spoke Mrs. Lee, though she did not know what was 
meant by “ the doctrine.” Like all other Chinese, 
she was anxious to see and hear everything. 

The chapel-keeper invited them to be seated, and 
then began to tell of the doctrines of the Bible. At 
first none of the three were interested, but as the 
good man told the story of Jesus, new to Mrs. Lee, 
her attention was drawn, her eyes were fixed on the 
speaker, and, almost breathless, she listened to catch 
each word as it fell from his lips. It was a new, a 
strange doctrine, but it awoke in her mind all those 


FINDING THE LIFE-GIVING GOD. 1G1 


old longings for the life-giving God. She asked 
few questions at first, yet seemed to drink in every 
word. She was surprised, astonished, yet delighted, 
to hear this doctrine. 

After a while the speaker stopped, as he said, “ I 
cannot make this as plain as the missionary can. I 
am like one who has been blind all his life, and then 
suddenly finds his eyes opened to the brightness of 
noonday. My eyes are dazzled with the light. I see, 
I wonder, I am delighted, but dazzled. I can only 
tell little, yet that little shows how much light there 
is. The missionary himself will soon be down to 
preach the doctrine, and he will make it all plain 
to you. He was born in the light and has ever 
lived in it, and knows ten thousand times more 
than I do. Come back again soon and hear him 
speak.” 

Mrs. Lee went away determined to return as soon 
as the missionary came. Her heart was full. Her 
friend did not seem to care to talk of the new doc- 
trine, but Mrs. Lee could speak of nothing else. It 
was as if her thirsty soul had at last found the water 
for which she had longed so many years. As she 
thought of what the chapel-keeper had said the 
feeling of gladness began to give place to one of 
sorrow. That story of Christ’s suffering for sinners 
— for all the sinners of the world, and for herself 
as well as others — was one that she could not un- 
derstand. She did understand the suffering and the 
love, but how could Christ know about her? If it 
n 


162 


CHOH LIN. 


were true, and this foreign God really knew about 
her, and then died to save her, surely she must be 
a great sinner: and how much he must love! How 
much he must have loved mankind to die for them ! 
How different this story from the stories of their 
gods of China ! How different this God must be 
from those of her country ! They were only will- 
ing to give favors after they had been well paid for 
it, and too often they took all they could get and 
gave nothing in return. This God gave his best 
first, and to the worst as well as to the best of man- 
kind, and then kept giving favors afterward to all, 
only asking in return that people should love and 
trust and serve him. 

Before the time for service came Mrs. Lee was at 
the chapel waiting. When the missionary appeared 
she had little thought about his strange dress or his 
appearance, but only of the doctrine she hoped to 
hear. When the hymn was given out she listened 
intently. The missionary began by saying, “Now, 
great family, come let us sing and praise God.” 
When the singing began Mrs. Lee thought she had 
never heard anything like it. It certainly was very 
different from the chanting and singing of the Chi- 
nese that she had heard. The singing, however, 
was not of the best. That did not matter to Mrs. 
Lee ; she was not a singer herself, yet that singing 
pleased her. When she saw that many others sang, 
she wanted to join, but did not dare let her voice 
attempt it, though her heart sang with the rest. She 


FINDING THE LIFE-GIVING GOD. 163 


felt that her heart could join in the prayer, and she 
did pray with her whole soul. As the good mis- 
sionary thanked God for his mercy toward sinners 
in sending his only Son to die for them, she felt 
that he was uttering her own thanks ; and then as 
he told God of their sinfulness and begged for par- 
don, she felt that the missionary was praying her 
own prayer. Those strange, wonderful words which 
he read from a book that he called “ God’s book ” 
went to her heart. Mrs. Lee’s interest did not 
lessen with the sermon. It was a simple statement 
of the truths of the gospel : it told of man’s sinful- 
ness, of the trouble and sorrow that sin caused, and 
what ruin it would at last bring to the soul ; it told 
how the world failed to find any remedy for sin, 
and then told of Jesus the great Saviour from sin. 

Doubtless, God directed the preacher to present 
just that truth; it certainly was what Mrs. Lee 
needed and what she had longed for for years. It 
told her of the life-giving God ; it taught her also 
that she needed another life — a life that this God 
alone could give, for sin was working death in her. 

At last Mrs. Lee had found the God she had 
sought so long, and it was the God of foreigners ! 
At once she determined to make him her own God. 
It seemed now as if she were in a new world. The 
darkness in which she had been groping was gone ; 
instead of being lost, and not knowing where to go 
or what to do, she saw a plain path before her. It 
is true, she could see only a little way in that path, 


164 


CHOU LIN. 


l>ut. she could see the path, and she was sure it was 
the right one. Seeing the path, she had only one 
thought — to enter it at once. 

After Mrs. Lee had learned this much and thought 
it over she began to understand how little she did 
know. One thing she saw — while it surprised her, 
yet it gave her confidence in the missionary : he 
seemed to know all there was in her heart. She 
was certain he had not seen her before, but that he 
knew her feelings, and had told them, was just as 
certain ; so she felt sure that he would be able to tell 
all she needed to know. Afterward, in speaking of 
that first sermon and the talk of the chapel-keeper, 
she said, “ Among the tens of thousands of people 
whom I have met, I never before met any that 
knew what was in me; but these men,” meaning 
the chapel-keeper as well as the missionary, “ have 
told me what was in my very bones.” 

When the service closed she was obliged to hasten 
to the boat, but it was with a determination to come 
again soon and hear more of the new good doctrine. 
Part of her business in Amoy at this time was to 
buy, for others as well as herself, incense-sticks, 
idolatrous paper and other things used in idol- and 
spirit- worship ; but after hearing the talk of the 
chapel-keeper and the sermon of the missionary she 
determined not to buy anything for idol-worship 
nor to have anything whatever to do with idolatry, 
or with the worship of the spirits of the dead. On 
the boat she could hardly help telling the people 


FINDING THE LIFE-GIVING GOD. 


165 


what she had heard, but as it is not considered 
proper for a woman to speak much in the presence 
of men, she kept her thoughts to herself. 

She was sure that her children and mother-in-law 
would be as glad to hear about the new religion as 
she had been. She pictured to herself their sur- 
prise and joy when they heard of this God who so 
loved the world, and for their own sakes too, and 
not for the good he could get from them. 

After reaching home she first showed her pur- 
chases, thinking it would be all the better to wait 
to tell about the new God until all were quiet. 
After she had shown all her purchases the mother- 
in-law asked, “ Where are the incense-sticks, paper 
and other things for offering to the gods and to the 
spirits of the dead?” 

“ I have brought none,” replied Mrs. Lee ; “ I 
did not buy any. We will no longer need such 
things; they will be of no use to us any more.” 

“ No use ?” said the old lady in amazement ; 
“ what do you mean ?” 

“ I mean,” answered Mrs. Lee, “ that we have 
found the true God and will no longer worship 
idols.” 

“‘The true GodM” repeated the grandmother; 
“ of course ours are the true gods. Why, then, did 
not you bring the things with which to worship 
them ?” 

“ I did not bring them because I have found a 
better way of worshiping the true God. The gods 


166 


CHOH LIN. 


of our fathers are not the true gods, but I know 
the true God now. He is the life-giving God 
whom I sought so long in vain in all the temples. 
He is the one we need. I am so glad that we 
know about him now ! Listen while I tell you.” 

Then she told what she had heard, expecting to 

find her mother-in-law as much interested as she was. 
Choh Lin listened eagerly, and his sister was atten- 
tive too, and seemed rather pleased than otherwise ; 
but the grandmother, instead of listening with 
pleasure, grew displeased, and then angry, and would 
hardly allow her daughter-in-law to finish before she 
said angrily, “ Is that the god you have found ? It 
is a foreign god, and you have been telling one of 
the false stories of the foreigners. If they have 
gods, we do not want them. We will not have 

them. You shall not worship them. You must 

not teach the children anything about them or their 
doctrine. I will not allow it.” And then, as if 
fearful that she had shown too much anger, for she 
was becoming a little careful of what she said to 
Mrs. Lee, she continued in a milder tone, “ The 
gods of the Middle Kingdom are the gods for us ; 
the worship of the fathers should be our worship. 
If there are better gods than our own, our fathers 
would have found it out long ago. Be assured that 
they found the best there are, and taught their chil- 
dren to worship them.” 

Mrs. Lee was surprised, disappointed, sad, and 
for a moment almost angry, and would have given 


FINDING THE LIFE-GIVING GOD. 


167 


a sharp reply had not her mother-in-law spoken 
more mildly at the last. She replied in a gentle and 
almost pleading voice, “ But this doctrine went to 
my heart as a bird to its nest, and is sitting there. 
It is just what I have wanted to hear, but none of 
our priests or people could tell me. I have longed 
for this ever since the cruel relatives killed me and 
I was brought back to life again. It is the doctrine 
of the heart.” 

“ Yes,” replied the other, angrily, “ and your 
longing brought on us all the trouble we have suf- 
fered. It has robbed me of my son and his chil- 
dren of their property. You have been unfaithful 
to the gods, and we have all suffered for that un- 
faithfulness. Do not bring on us greater trouble by 
deserting the gods of our people altogether.” 

Choh Lin’s sister, who was usually quiet, could 
not hear her mother so unjustly accused, even by 
the grandmother, without some reply. “ Grand- 
mother,” said she, “ mother was faithful to the gods 
before father died, and afterward she did all she 
could to serve them. Not until her husband and 
her property were taken away, and she was almost 
robbed of life, did she cease her faithful worship of 
the gods. And even then she did not desert the 
gods; she only sought the one who had brought her 
back to life.” 

“ You girls don’t know anything about such 
things,” replied the grandmother petulantly. 

Choh Lin, who had listened with close attention 


168 


CHOH LIN 


to his mother’s story, felt hurt at the rebuke of the 
grandmother, and as soon as she had answered his 
sister he asked, “ Grandmother, did the gods take 
my father away? and did they allow the relatives 
to rob us of our property ?” 

“Of course they did,” replied she sharply. 
“They punish those who desert them.” 

“But mother did not desert the gods, grand- 
mother. She went to the temple and prayed very 
often when my father was sick. I remember about it, 
and she prayed and offered the gods many sacrifices 
afterward, too, asking them to take care of us and 
keep the relatives from taking away our property ; 
yet her prayers were not answered. We lost all, 
even though she begged the gods so much to take 
care of us. Grandmother” — and he spoke slowly 
— “ the gods deserted mother ; they deserted us all, 
and not we them.” 

The old lady looked with amazement at the boy, 
and then said, “ Have the evil spirits entered our 
family ? What will come next ?” Saying this, she 
walked hastily away. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


PERSECUTION. 

IV/TRS. LEE soon made another visit to Amoy 
L"-l_ anc J to the mission-chapel, where she heard 
more of the truth. She found business calling her 
oftener to the city now than formerly, and each time 
she visited the chapel to has^e a talk with the chapel- 
keeper or missionary if it were not time for service. 
There was no more earnest listener than she when 
the gospel was preached, nor any inquirer more at- 
tentive to what was said in the inquiry-meetings 
which she attended. Rapidly she learned the truth, 
and soon became able to teach others. 

Mrs. Lee was ready to talk of the new religion 
to any people whom she met, but soon learned that 
it was wisdom to say nothing to her mother-in-law. 
The old lady became excited and angry whenever 
the gospel was referred to, and often forbade Mrs. 
Lee to speak to any one in the family of the new 
religion. The daughter, however, listened atten- 
tively and eagerly when her mother spoke of the 
Saviour. When the two were alone, then more 
questions were asked by the younger, not a few, 

169 


170 


CHOH LIN. 


however, being unanswered until Mrs. Lee had 
made another trip to the city. 

Choh Lin had become at once interested in the 
gospel, nor was he afraid to talk of the new religion 
even in the presence of his grandmother, though he 
soon learned that it was best to keep silence on the 
subject when she was near. The story of the love 
of Jesus for men had won the heart of the boy, and 
he was eager to know more about the Saviour. He 
watched anxiously for the return of his mother 
from the city ; and often had more questions to ask 
about what she had learned from the missionaries 
than what she had seen and done while there. 

When Chi Lap, on his visits home, heard about 
the gospel, he too listened with interest, and was 
pleased ; but his thoughts were so full of money- 
making in Amov that he had more to say about 
that than about the new religion. A dread seemed 
to come over him after a while lest the people in 
the village should persecute them for being Chris- 
tians, and he urged Choh Lin to say nothing about 
the gospel to others, and even begged his mother 
not to tell the neighbors that she had determined to 
become a Christian. 

“ It is all right ,” said he, “ to pray to the foreign 
God — he is much better than the gods of China — 
but pray to him when others do not see you, and 
don’t neglect the worship of the idols entirely. The 
people will not care how much you worship foreign 
gods as long as you do not desert their own.” 


PERSECUTION. 


171 


Choh Lin refused to be entirely silent, and his 
mother would tell her friends of the life-giving 
God ; nor did she stop with that : she urged them 
to take him as their God. 

The grandmother made every effort to lead her 
daughter-in-law back to idolatry and to the worship 
of the spirits. She tried to persuade Mrs. Lee to 
give up her Amoy business, hoping in this way to 
keep her from the influence of the missionaries. 
She forbade her daughter-in-law going to the chap- 
el, and threatened her with severe punishment if 
she dared disobey. Mrs. Lee was not a woman to 
be hindered by threats from doing what she believed 
to be her duty as well as her right; so she continued 
her business in Amoy and her visits at the chapel. 
There were no Christians near Tay Soa, nor was there 
any Christian service nearer than Amoy. In addi- 
tion to the morning and evening worship, there was a 
preaching-service each day in the chapel there, and on 
the Sabbath there were several services in the same 
place. One of these was an inquiry-meeting, where 
all who wished to know more of the gospel were 
questioned about their knowledge and plainly taught 
the truth. As it was not proper, according to Chi- 
nese custom, for the younger women to meet with 
the men, Monday afternoon was set apart as a time 
for special service for the women. Mrs. Lee learned 
very soon of this woman’s meeting, and attended it 
whenever she could, instead of the Sabbath service. 
The missionaries, noticing that she was almost al- 


172 


CHOH LIN. 


ways present on Monday instead of* on Sunday, 
asked why she did not attend the Sabbath service, 
since it was allowable for women of her age to meet 
with the men. 

“ I thought that was the men’s Sabbath,” replied 
she, “ and Monday the Sabbath for the women.” 

When told that women did not meet with the 
men because a part of the chapel had not been par- 
titioned off for their use, and that the Monday af- 
ternoon meeting was intended for the young women, 
who could not meet with the men, and that the first 
day of the week was the Sabbath for all, she said 
that she would be there afterward on the first in- 
stead of the second day of the week ; nor did she 
spend many Sabbaths after that away from Amoy. 
Usually she started for the city on Saturday, and 
returned on Monday to her home. On these trips 
she took with her not only her food, but fuel with 
which to cook it. The mother-in-law, noticing soon 
that Mrs. Lee made a point of visiting Amov once 
every seven days, suspected that it had something to 
do with the worship of the foreign God, and tried 
to stop her trips to the city. She even forbade Mrs. 
Lee to take food along. Choh Lin, who heard his 
grandmother forbid his mother to take food or fuel, 
was so anxious to have her learn more of the gospel 
that he hid some of the wood gathered each week, 
and on Saturday carried it on board the passenger- 
vessel for his mother’s use in the city : he even car- 
ried rice on board, so that his grandmother would 


PERSECUTION. 


173 


not suspect that Mrs. Lee was going to the city. 
They could not long keep it a secret from the old 
lady : she was made sure by others where her daugh- 
ter-in-law went and what she did in the city. If, 
for any reason, Mrs. Lee did not go to Amoy to 
spend the Sabbath, she held a service at home with 
her two children, who were becoming almost as 
much interested in the gospel as their mother. 
They had learned to pray, they refused to work on 
the Sabbath, and were trying to live Christian lives 
as well as they knew how. 

When their mother was away the two tried to 
keep up a Sabbath worship, though the old lady, 
taking advantage of Mrs. Lee’s absence, sought to 
lead the children back to idolatry. 

“ Grandmother,” said Choh Lin one day, u you 
don’t know about this foreign God ; you will not 
let mother tell of him, and no one else has ever 
told you : how can you tell whether or not he is 
good?” 

“ The gods and the religion of our fathers are 
good enough for me,” she replied ; “ our ancestors 
believed in them and died in that faith ; why should 
not I? Beware of this foreign religion; it will 
some day bring ruin upon those who heed it.” 

“ Grandmother,” answered he, “ mother has wor- 
shiped the gods of the Middle Kingdom ; she now 
worships the God of the foreigners; she has had a 
chance to try both. She likes the God of the for- 
eigners best. Whom are we to follow — the one 


174 


CHOH LIN. 


who has tried both sides or the one who has tried 
only one?” 

“ You haven’t seen the end of this worship of a 
foreign God,” replied the old lady. “ Let your 
mother beware when the gods visit their anger 
upon you.” 

The persuasions and warnings of his grandmother 
had little effect upon the boy. The doctrines his 
mother taught on her return from the city made 
him the more anxious to become a Christian, but 
there was one oft-repeated appeal from the grand- 
mother that was not without its effect : “ I am soon 
going to the spirit-world,” said she, “ and what will 
my spirit do for food and clothing if my grand- 
children refuse to care for it ? I must live and 
starve, yet starve and live. The other spirits, en- 
joying plenty provided by faithful relatives, will 
think that I have been very bad to be thus deserted 
by my own children. I will be deserted, shunned, 
hated and made an outcast in the spirit-world ; and 
all because my children desert the religion of their 
fathers. I will suffer, suffer, suffer, and all because 
my children have deserted me ; yet they say they 
love me. Is this, can it be, love? No, no; my 
worst enemy could not do more.” 

It needed all the mother’s faith and knowledge 
to keep her children from turning back to supersti- 
tion and idolatry when they for the first time heard 
this appeal. The Chinese believe that their com- 
forts in the next life depend on their friends and 



Mrs. Lee, 


Page 175, 
























































































. . • 
















PERSECUTION. 


175 


relatives in this. Not only do they believe that 
their souls are fed and clothed by the gifts of their 
friends in this world, but that the respect and honor 
their spirits receive from their friends in the unseen 
world depend on the attention shown by relatives 
in this. The people may doubt the power of the 
gods, and even ridicule them, but none of them 
ridicule the worship of spirits : to that idolatry ail 
are faithful. 

As Mrs. Lee continued to attend the chapel-ser- 
vice at Amoy, and refused again and again to give 
anything for idolatrous feasts or the worship of the 
spirits of the dead in Tay Soa, the people became 
excited and even angry at her. They feared that 
the gods and the spirits of the dead would not only 
punish her and her family, but the whole village, 
for such wickedness. Some visited and talked with 
Mrs. Lee, begging her to return to the religion of 
the place and not bring calamities on the whole vil- 
lage. When they asked if she worshiped the for- 
eigners’ God, she said she did, and, further, that he 
was the only true God. Instead of trying to excuse 
herself, she urged them to take this as their God. 
She said that the religion of the foreigners was like 
medicine to the sick soul. 

“ Yes,” said one, “ it may be like medicine, but 
a medicine that poisons. It will be like opium, 
making you feel happy at first, but it will rob you 
of all you have. If you turn away from the gods 
and the spirits of the dead, you will soon see how 


176 


CHOH LIN. 


they will turn away from you. When calamity 
comes, what will you do?” 

“ Do gods and spirits in the Middle Kingdom 
keep calamity away?” asked she. 

“ Certainly they do,” was the answer. 

“Then why did not they keep calamity away 
from me when I did serve them ? Instead of car- 
ing for me when I was the most faithful, they let 
my husband die and let others take away all of my 
property, and finally left me and my children to 
starve. I do not see how they can bring on me 
much worse calamities for deserting them than they 
allowed to come on me when I was faithful to 
them.” 

“Sol Law China * is right,” spoke an old woman 
wdio stood by. “She lost everything while obey- 
ing our gods, and why should she continue to serve 
them? They took all that she gave, and then took 
the presents of her enemies and allowed them to 
rob her.” 

This woman was a warm friend of Mrs. Lee, and 
had already learned from her much about the gos- 
pel ; indeed, was half inclined to give up the wor- 
ship of the gods herself. 

“Right or wrong,” said one of the elders of 
the village, “ Sol Law Chim must do her share to- 
ward paying for the idols’ feasts and ceremonies of 
the village. If she stays in Tay Soa, she must do 

* Chim means “ wife or widow of — and Sol Law Chim means 
“ wife or widow of Sol Law.” 


PERSECUTION. 


177 


as we do, and care for the temples and the worship 
of the ancestral tablets. This is not a foreign vil- 
lage, and we do not mean to have foreigners live 
here, nor will we permit you to observe their re- 
ligion, either.” 

Mrs. Lee remained firm against all their persua- 
sions, and then they resorted to threats. “We will 
drive you from our village,” said one. 

“ You cannot do that,” was her reply, “ because 
I own my house.” 

“ Your relatives will take that away,” answered 
another. 

M Then I will appeal to the mandarins,” was her 
reply. 

“ They will not help you,” said one of the elders 
of the village. “ You lose all your rights by giving 
up the religion of your people.” 

“ Then I will pray to the great and true God 
whom I serve,” spoke Mrs. Lee determinedly, “ and 
He who saved Daniel even in the lions’ den will 
take care of me.” 

“ Your God may be strong in his own country, 
but he can do nothing in the Middle Kingdom, 
where he will have so many gods against him.” 

“ He is not the God of a single country, but of 
the whole world,” replied Mrs. Lee. “ He made 
the world and all that is in it. He is the only true 
God.” 

“ Well,” spoke one in a conciliatory tone, “he 
may be a very great God, and there may be no 
12 


178 


CHOH LTN. 


harm for you to worship him, but don’t give up the 
worship of the spirits of the dead.” 

“ Why should I worship them ?” she asked. 

“ Because they are mighty, and can give great 
favors and bring great evils upon us.” 

“Mighty!” replied she in contempt, “and yet 
they cannot take care of themselves. You believe 
we must give them house, clothing, food, and even 
drink, in the spin t- world. They are perfectly help- 
less; how, then, can they help or injure us?” 

Determined to bring the matter to a test, one of 
them asked, “ Will you help pay for the food to be 
given to our ancestors at the ancestral feast?” 

For a moment Mrs. Lee was silent; then she said 
calmly, “ No, I don’t believe it can do them any 
good whatever ; they are entirely beyond our power, 
and I do not mean to worship them nor care for 
their wants. I don’t believe I can really do any- 
thing for them.” 

“ What !” spoke one, “ have you entirely given 
up the worship of our ancestors for an unknown 
god of foreigners?” 

“ Yes,” was her reply ; “ he is the true God, the 
only one. I have given up all others for him, nor 
will I again worship our ancestors. The foreign 
God shall be my God.” 

“ If she deserts our gods and our ancestors, she 
deserts us,” said one, “and becomes a foreigner. 
Let her go; let foreigners care for her in time of 
famine, watch by her when she is sick, burv her 


PERSECUTION. 


179 


when she is dead, weep at her grave and care for 
her forsaken spirit. She is ours no longer and 
with contempt they were about turning away. 

But others were not so willing to leave Mrs. Lee: 
if the gods did not punish, they felt it to be their 
duty to do so, and for a time it seemed that her life 
was in danger. Fortunately, milder counsels pre- 
vailed, and the people decided to leave Mrs. Lee to 
herself, counting her as a foreigner and an outcast. 

Her relatives were not so easily persuaded to 
leave Mrs. Lee to herself. They had already heard 
of her deserting the worship of their ancestors, but, 
not knowing just how the village elders would look 
on that desertion, they were not in a hurry to visit 
her. They knew full well that if their robbery of 
her property were brought before the mandarins 
they would be made to suffer. Besides, the stories 
of what foreign ships of war and soldiers had done 
to different parts of China made them look on for- 
eigners with dread ; yet they felt that something 
must be done after they learned of Mrs. Lee’s 
public decision. Being superstitious, they believed 
that the spirits and gods would punish all for the 
neglect and the sin of one. They visited Mrs. Lee, 
and in a polite way drew out her opinions and pur- 
poses. At first they gently advised her to give up 
the foreign god, but when she insisted on choosing 
for herself they became more determined, harsh and 
angry. They commanded her to have nothing more 
to do with foreigners, to give up the worship of the 


180 


CHOH LIN 


foreign god, and threatened her with terrible pun- 
ishment if she refused. Mrs. Lee told them, as she 
had told others, that she meant to be a Christian, 
and no words of theirs nor threats should turn her 
from that course. Seeing her calmness and deter- 
mination, they thought that perhaps the foreigners 
would help her, so they dared do nothing more than 
threaten. They called her by every name of con- 
tempt they could think of. 

To call a married woman or widow in China by 
her maiden name as well as her given name is re- 
garded as one of the greatest insults that can be 
given to a woman: these relatives called her by 
both, and added another term whose meaning 
seemed to contain in it all the contempt and dis- 
grace that words could heap upon Mrs. Lee. They 
went in front of the ancestral tablets, and, kneeling 
there, begged the spirits to make her an outcast, 
hated, despised by all, and then to heap upon her 
all the punishment and sorrow they could give. 
From the ancestral tablets they went to the idol 
temple, and there again they bowed in prayer before 
the gods, begging them to punish with sufferings 
and curses the woman who had deserted the religion 
of their country and the spirits of the dead. Hav- 
ing done all they dared, they left Mrs. Lee and 
treated her as an outcast who had no more claims 
on them* than the dogs of the streets. 

All this Mrs. Lee bore meekly and patiently. 
She had learned what the Saviour said about those 


PERSECUTION. 


181 


who are deserted of friends for his name’s sake, and 
she learned that there is a blessing given for all the 
sufferings endured. Though the mother-in-law re- 
mained bitterly opposed to Christianity, she would 
not turn against her daughter-in-law. Mrs. Lee 
was so kind and faithful that the old lady could not 
help loving her. She could not but see that the 
foreign religion, instead of making her daughter- 
in-law careless of her family, had really made her 
more thoughtful and careful to attend to their 
wants. Yet she continued to oppose Mrs. Lee’s 
religion, and used every means in her power to in- 
fluence the children against the mother’s faith and 
to train them up as idolaters. The kindness of 
Mrs. Lee, however, her faithful life, and, more than 
all, the new doctrine, influenced the children more 
than the grandmother’s warnings. 

Steadily Choh Lin gained a knowledge of the 
truth, and the more he knew about it the more he 
loved it. Yet he did not seem to understand that 
he was a sinner with a sinful nature, needing a new 
heart and the grace of God to help him live a dif- 
ferent life. To him the true God was merely a 
greater one than any in China and very different 
from all, but one whom he might serve or not as 
he chose. He, however, did not hesitate to let it be 
known that he had taken the foreign God as his 
own and had given up all other worship. When 
the villagers and the relatives turned against his 
mother, they turned against him too. Even the 


182 


CHOH LIN. 


boys who had been his friends and companions, 
those who had fought with and for him in many a 
battle, now turned against him. It was unpopular 
in the village to say or do anything kindly to Choh 
Lin or his mother. The boys were only too ready 
to put into acts the words that they heard grown 
people speak. Those who had been enemies of 
Choh Lin before, but had not dared to injure him 
as they wished on account of his relatives and 
friends, now made him suffer. Many a time the 
poor fellow heard them hooting at him in the street 
and calling out, “ Hoana !” (“ foreigner ”), “ Hoana 
kia !” (“ foreigner’s child ”), and sometimes they 
even shouted, “Hoana kui!” (“foreign devil ”). 
They would not play nor walk with him, and hard- 
ly spoke to him. If they could trip him or push 
him down, enough of them were ready to do it. 
If he gathered wood on the shore, they would steal 
it or rob him of his oysters. Sometimes, when he 
was carrying water from a spring to his home, they 
came behind, and when he had nearly reached the 
house threw sand into the pail, or if he set it down 
to rest they kicked it over, thus compelling him to 
go again for water. They tried to set the dogs on 
him, threw stones and sticks at him, and annoyed 
him in every way possible. If he happened along 
when they were arranging some plan for sport, they 
at once stopped and said, “ Here comes this foreign- 
er child ; he must not know anything about it. Let 
him go to his own people; he don’t belong here.” 


PERSECUTION. 


183 


Few men had kind words for him ; all seemed to 
treat him as though he were a worthless dog, who 
was permitted to live only because no one cared to 
take the trouble of putting him out of the way. 

Yet it was not always so, nor did every one treat 
him with unkindness. Jip longed to be friendly, 
and when able showed Choh Lin no little good-will, 
but dared not let others know it. To have played 
with Choh Lin or to have been seen in company 
with the friendless boy would have been to hear 
others say, “ There is another foreigner ! He is be- 
coming a foreigner like Choh Lin. Keep away 
from them both. They will make us foreigners 
too.” 

When Chi Lap came home and saw how unkindly 
his mother and brother were treated — his sister being 
nearly grown, according to Chinese custom was not 
allowed to go away from her home — he felt troubled 
and urged them to give up the outward worship, so 
as not to allow the people to know that they served 
the foreigners’ God. Yet he was unwilling that 
they should become idolaters again. He listened 
himself with no little pleasure to the doctrine, and 
seemed glad that his mother, brother and sister were 
trying to follow the new religion ; but he did not 
understand why they were obliged to let anybody 
know about it. He was making a living for him- 
self, and able to help his mother a little, but he 
feared that if it were known in the city that his 
mother and brother were Christians it would injure 


184 


CHOH LIN 


his business; so he begged them to be like others 
outwardly and keep their religion hidden. 

But neither Chi Lap’s entreaties nor the threats 
of the village people had any effect on Mrs. Lee or 
Choh Lin. They had learned that Christianity was 
not only something of the heart, but that it must be 
shown out in the life. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


IN AMOY. 

M RS. LEE became well known in the chapel at 
Amoy. One day a missionary asked whether 
she had any family. She told him about her family 
and about Chi Lap being in the city. The mission- 
ary said he would like to see her son. 

Chi Lap appeared in the chapel soon after. It 
was not the first time he had gone there. He too 
was interested in Christianity, but afraid to let it be 
known lest it should injure his business. This time 
he happened to be in the chapel when his mother was 
there. After service she called him to the mission- 
ary and introduced him as her son. As no one but 
the missionary seemed to notice him, he remained, 
and the more he heard the more he wanted to hear. 

This missionary had a little girl who was an in- 
valid, and he needed some one to wait on her. 
Pleased with the boy, he offered to hire him. Chi 
Lap was earning money, but not rapidly ; besides, 
he was not sure of making a living for the future 
at his business, as many other boys were engaged 
in it; so he was glad to accept an offer of regular 
wages and a home, but more still was he pleased to 

185 


186 


CHOH LIN. 


be with the missionary where he might hear the 
gospel. 

The missionaries had asked Mrs. Lee about Choh 
Lin too, and whether she wished to give him an 
education. 

“ Yes,” said she, “ I should be glad to have him 
learn, but cannot afford to pay what the teacher 
charges.” 

They told her of the mission-school where chil- 
dren were taught for nothing, and said that if Choh 
Lin really wanted to study, and she would bring 
him to Amoy, he might attend the school there. 
Though delighted with this offer, Mrs. Lee hardly 
knew how to have her two boys away while she re- 
mained at Tay Soa. After planning for a while, 
she decided to hire rooms at Amoy and live there 
herself with Choh Lin, and leave her mother-in- 
law and daughter at Tay Soa if unwilling to move 
to the city. 

When she first told Choh Lin of her plan the 
boy was almost wild with joy. He could hardly 
wait to get ready for school. He cared not only for 
that and to be in the large city, but was pleased to 
think that he would be with the missionaries and 
could hear the gospel for himself. Had he had his 
own way, Choh Lin would have started for Amoy 
the next morning. He little thought that a boy 
might need better clothes for school, and would 
need more than one suit. He had had very little 
in the way of new clothing of late years. 


IN AMOY. 


187 


Choh Lin’s longing to become a learned man that 
he might be a rich one came back with double force 
now that he saw so good a chance to get an educa- 
tion. He was anxious to learn the truth and be- 
come a Christian, but did not think yet of using his 
learning for doing good with it. He wanted to be 
rich, that he might buy as many good things as he 
could use. 

Choh Lin could talk of very little besides Amoy 
and the school. He asked his mother all kinds of 
questions, far more than she could have answered 
had she been at the school herself. She knew little 
about it — so little, indeed, that her answer usually 
was, “ I don’t know.” 

The grandmother was not pleased with the idea 
of Choh Lin going to the school of the foreign 
teachers, and would gladly have kept him at Tay 
Soa. Far rather would she have him grow up in 
ignorance than learn from people who believed a 
foreign religion. It was useless for her, however, 
to try to keep Choh Lin. She would have felt less 
troubled if her grandson had been going to live 
among heathen ; but to be among Christians and 
away from her own influence, to be with his mother 
alone, who would do everything possible to make 
him an enemy of the gods and spirit- worship of 
China, — this was almost more than the old lady 
could endure. Mrs. Lee had urged her mother-in- 
law to go to Amoy, but in vain. She would not 
listen to such a proposal. She had lived at Tay 


188 


CHOH LIN ; 


Soa so many years that she could not think of going 
away now. Probably she had a secret fear of meet- 
ing the missionaries, lest they should turn her, as 
they had done her daughter-in-law, away from the 
religion of China. 

Those were long days to Choh Lin that came be- 
tween the decision and the moving to Amoy ; aside 
from the desire to see and live in a city, and the wish 
to be at school, was the anxiety to get away lest 
another famine should come, causing more suffering 
and starvation. But there was another feeling still 
that made him wish to leave: he had few friends 
now since he had become a worshiper of the true 
God, and he longed to be where people did not 
hate and persecute, and cry out, “ There goes a for- 
eigner’s child.” 

He had heard his mother talk so much of the 
chapel and the people who gathered there to wor- 
ship, of the singing, the prayers and the preaching, 
that he felt anxious to attend the chapel too. He 
was eager to meet the Christians, and most of all 
the missionaries, and to tell them that he also wor- 
shiped the true God. 

At last the day for moving came. Not many 
boats were needed to bear their goods to Amoy. 
Two strong men could probably have carried all 
their furniture and everything. Mrs. Lee left most 
of her property at Tay Soa, intending to buy the 
few things needed when she reached Amoy. 

It was a grand day to the country boy when he 


IN AMOY. 


189 


reached the large city. He was delighted at the 
many sights before him. It seemed that he had 
not in all his life seen so many boats as lay at an- 
chor or were sailing around in the harbor, and some 
of them were such immense vessels ! The war- 
junks appeared to be awful, with their flags flying 
and the great cannon reaching their long necks and 
open mouths out toward him from the decks of the 
vessels. The merchant-junks, with high sterns and 
gaudy paintings, with carved work and horrid 
(though to him grand) pictures, were mighty ves- 
sels. As they lay at anchor, with their huge black 
eyes on either side of the bow looking out upon the 
water, they seemed to the boy as great giants who 
were merely resting before going out on the ocean 
to beat down the waves with their immense bulk. 
Farther away from the landing where the Tay Soa 
boats stopped lay the foreign-built ships. These, 
so far away, appeared to be wonderful giants with 
their tall masts and many crosstrees. More wonr 
derful still was the great city, reaching about a mile 
along the harbor and stretching nearly as far back 
from the water. The crowds of vessels surprised 
him, the multitudes of houses astonished him, and 
the many new and strange sights kept him in a 
fever of excitement and wonder. He hardly lis- 
tened to anything his mother said, and when the 
boat anchored and the time came to go ashore he 
was so interested in looking that he could scarcely 
think of stepping into the small boat. 


190 


CHOH UN. 


At the landing they were met by Chi Lap. The 
older brother was pleased at the curiosity of Choh 
Lin, and proud to be able to tell him about the 
many new things that appeared; but he cautioned 
Choh Lin not to ask too loud nor seem to be too ig- 
norant, lest the people find out that he was nothing 
but a country boy. 

“ ‘ Nothing but a country boy , !” repeated the 
younger brother. “ Certainly, I am a country boy, 
and I came from Tay Soa, a place that is as good 
as any in the Middle Kingdom.” 

“ Shih ! shih !” spoke Chi Lap in a low voice ; 
“ don’t say anything about Tay Soa. It is a good 
place, but then it is not Amoy.” 

“ Thung-a ! ti thung-a ! Ti but but ! Ho chiah ! 
Beh boe thung-a ?” cried a boy as he came along 
with a tray or basket of sweetened fruits and candies. 
(“ Sugared things ! sweet sugared things ! Sweet, 
very, very sweet ! Good eating. Will you buy 
sugared things?”) Seeing Choh Lin, he came to 
him and said, “Good young friend, here are just 
what you like, the sweetest kind of fruits and can- 
dies. Even the bright country does not have any 
as sweet and good. Will you buy ? They are so 
cheap! I am really almost giving them away. 
These,” holding up some, “are worth five cash — 
yes, ten cash — apiece, but I will sell them to you 
at a single cash each. You will never get any as 
cheap up in the country.” 

Choh Lin was ready at once to spend a few cash 


IN AMOY. 


191 


to take advantage of such a bargain, but Chi Lap 
said quietly yet decidedly as he motioned Choh Lin 
not to buy, “ Em boe ” (‘‘not buy”), and hurried 
his brother on. 

“ Why did not you let me buy ?” asked the 
younger; “they were so cheap.” 

“‘Cheap*!” repeated Chi Lap. “ I used to sell 
those same things five for a cash. He saw that you 
were from the country, and thought that you did 
not know much. Be careful how you act and what 
you buy. Almost every one will charge you five 
times as much as a thing is worth if they see that 
you don’t know.” 

The two boys were soon at Choh Lin’s future 
home. It was very small, with only two little rooms, 
and very dark ones at that, but about as good as 
the homes of many poor people in the city. It 
took only a short time to get their household goods 
in order. Chi Lap, on account of his mother and 
brother moving to Amoy, had a holiday and spent 
it with them. As soon as the work was done the 
two brothers went out for a walk, Chi Lap intend- 
ing to show Choh Lin the chapel, mission -house 
and school. It was Saturday, and there was no 
school, so the boys could go into the schoolroom 
without interfering with the scholars. Chi Lap got 
the key and showed his brother around. They met 
the missionary as they were going about, and Chi 
Lap at once introduced Choh Lin, who hardly knew 
what to sav when addressed. 


192 


CHOH LIN. 


It is so common for the Chinese to greet one 
another with the questions, when they meet as 
strangers, “ How old are you ? and have you eaten 
yet?” that Choh Lin expected of course that the 
missionary would ask how old he was, so he an- 
swered as politely as he could, “ Chap-jee hay ” 
(“twelve years”). 

But the missionary had said he was glad to see 
him, and then asked when he and his mother came 
into the city. Choh Lin, a little too excited to no- 
tice the question, supposed that it was the regular 
one, and answered, “Chiah-pa” (“eaten enough”). 

The missionary smiled, and after a few pleasant 
words went on, leaving the two to look around far- 
ther. 

Choh Lin felt troubled when his older brother 
told him what the missionary had asked, and won- 
dered if he would think ill of the new scholar. 

“ Don’t fear,” said Chi Lap ; “ the missionaries 
are the kindest and best men in the world, and are 
the wisest too. They know almost everything. 
They even know what we mean when we tell them 
just the opposite. The other servants say that mis- 
sionaries can see into our hearts and almost know 
what we think, only they can’t always tell when 
people cheat them. They know everything about 
the badness of the heart except when it is shown in 
bargains.” 

Choh Lin was greatly pleased with his visit to 
the school. Chi Lap told him that as they would 


IN AMOY. 


193 


be able to go to the chapel-service the next (lay, 
there would be no nfeed now of visiting that room. 

Choh Lin was with his mother in the chapel 
among the first at the morning worship. He took 
the hymn-book offered him, and was proud to let it 
be known that he knew quite a number of the char- 
acters (or words) in it. When the hymn was given 
out he could find it; nor was that very difficult, as 
there were only thirteen in the book. Thirteen 
hymns, however, were enough for Choh Lin. That 
first one was not sung as well as it would have been 
in a church in America, but far better than Choh 
Lin had ever heard singing. God accepted it as 
praise, no doubt, for it was sung heartily and the 
people meant what they sang. That singing was 
worship ; Choh Lin came there to worship God, so 
he tried to join in the song. Softly and in a low 
tone he followed the others, readily catching the 
simple tune ; each note seeming a step by which the 
boy’s heart went up to God. Then the reading of 
the Bible was like opening the door to allow him to 
approach and listen to the Almighty, while the 
prayer appeared to be God coming out to listen 
while all united through the leader in talking to 
him. 

The newness of the service attracted the boy, but 
the solemnity of the worship, and yet its simplicity, 
drew his heart out toward God. Choh Lin was not 
yet a heart-Christian, nor did he really know what 
it was to be one. He had only changed gods when 
13 


194 


CHOH UN 


he gave up idolatry. He did not know about a 
change of heart, and about the need of the Holy 
Spirit to bring about that change; but the Spirit of 
God was leading him, though he did not know it. 

That first Sabbath in Amoy was a happy day for 
the country boy. New things met him everywhere 
and pleased him, but nothing so pleased and satis- 
fied him as the services in the chapel. These made 
this the best day he had ever seen. How glad he 
was that he had come to Amoy ! But there was 
one thing that gave him trouble, and that was what 
he was asked and what he learned in the inquiry- 
meeting. So many things the missionary asked of 
which he had never thought, and many things also of 
which he had never heard, that the boy was amazed. 
He was sorry, too, to be obliged to answer again 
and again that he did not know. Each time, how- 
ever, the missionary kindly explained the question 
and its answer. At the close of the meeting Choh 
Lin felt that there was something in the new relig- 
ion that he had not learned — something deeper than 
he had yet felt ; and the prayer that the missionary 
gave him — to pray that the Holy Spirit would show 
him his sin and lead him to Christ — he resolved to 
offer very often, and to keep praying until his heart 
was all clean and right before God. He longed to 
be able to read the Bible, that he might know more 
about the Saviour and how to please and serve 
God. 


CHAPTER XX. 


IN THE MISSION-SCHOOL. 

E ARLY on Monday morning Choh Lin was 
ready for school. Indeed, long before the time 
he wanted to start, but was told by his mother to 
wait. When permitted to go he started eagerly for 
the school, which was only a little distance away. 
He took no dinner- basket nor yet books. He could 
come home for dinner, and the books would be fur- 
nished by the school. His courage, however, oozed 
out at the ends of his fingers by the time he had 
reached the schoolroom. When he saw the strange 
faces and the wise-looking teacher he almost wished 
himself back at Tay Soa. Scholars and teacher 
were strangers to him. Fortunately, the mission- 
ary was there, and at once saw Choh Lin. He in- 
troduced the boy to the teacher, said a few kind 
words, and then left. 

Choh Lin hardly knew where his tongue had 
gone when the teacher asked him questions, but 
succeeded in finding it before the teacher had waited 
too long for answers. 

When the school was called to order a seat was 
given him, a chapter from the Bible read, a prayer 

195 


196 


CHOH LIN. 


offered by the teacher, and the work of the day be- 
gan. There was the same noisy study on the part 
of the boys, and some had the same lessons that he 
had heard recited at Tay Soa. But another book 
was studied, and that was the Bible. Each one was 
taught to read and commit it to memory. Choh Lin 
was glad to study the holy book. Not only did he 
study ; he thought of what he learned, and many a 
passage was kept in mind to ask his mother about 
afterward. Besides the usual studies of the Chinese 
schools and the Bible the boys were taught some- 
thing of geography and arithmetic: they were also 
taught a catechism of Bible truths; for this, while 
it was a school to fit the scholars for useful lives, 
was meant primarily to teach them of the Bible and 
the Saviour in the hope that they would become 
Christians. 

Some of the boys studied just because they must, 
while others were anxious to learn all they could. 
Choh Lin set himself at once to study, because he 
meant to get the good of it in the future. The 
teacher noticed his studious habits and praised him 
for trying to do so well. 

“ Some day,” said he, “ you may be a learned 
man and a preacher of the gospel.” 

This was praise that Choh Lin did not care for. 
He did not wish to become a preacher ; indeed, had 
not thought of it at all. Had the teacher said that 
some day he would become a graduate and a rich as 
well as great man, Choh Lin would have been far 


IN THE MISSION-SCHOOL. 


197 


more pleased. He, however, learned to like the 
quiet, kind and good teacher, and was ready to listen 
and take his advice. He did not understand how 
some boys could deceive the teacher as they did. 
When the teacher was not looking they began whis- 
pering or playing, but as soon as his eye was on 
them they pretended to be busy with their studies. 
It was strange to Choh Lin that boys in a school 
where they were taught of the true God and from 
the Bible should do this. He soon learned that 
not all boys who know about God serve him faith- 
fully. 

Choh Lin did not find the boys as friendly as he 
hoped. At recess, when all had an opportunity to 
talk, the others seemed to forget that a strange boy 
was among them. Some did come to him and ask 
where his home was, but when they learned that he 
was from a little village off in the country, they did 
not seem to care much more for him. None asked, 
as he hoped they would, whether or not he were a 
Christian, and none seemed to care much about any- 
thing but play. He gradually became acquainted 
with the boys, yet did not like them as much as he 
had hoped. They called him a country boy, and 
said that he was green ; they ridiculed his country 
ways and made sport of many things he did. 

City people in China think themselves brighter 
and better than those who live in the country. They 
speak of country people as green. Perhaps they 
are right, yet green things, unless painted, are live 


198 


CHOH LIN. 


things. The country is the place where good things 
grow, and were it not for the country city people 
would soon die. Country people can live without 
the city, but city people cannot live without the 
country. 

For a while Choh Lin took their ridicule kindly, 
yet could not see why he was the worse for having 
lived in the country. He knew that inside of him 
he was as real a boy, and just as able to study or to 
work, as any city boy. He was right. It is not so 
much the place in which he lives that makes the 
boy as it is that which is in him. A diamond is 
no less a diamond because found in the sand of the 
river-bed, nor is a boy the less worthy because he 
happens to have had his home where there is an 
abundance of grass, trees and ground. If Choh 
Lin did not know as much of the city, he knew far 
more of the country than the boys who ridiculed 
him ; and he was really wiser than those who had 
lived all their lives where there was little to be seen 
except stone pavements and brick-aud-mortar walls. 

“ I may be green,” said he one day when the boys 
were ridiculing him, “ but I would rather be that 
than dry. Dry things are dead things. Dry 
weather brings drought and famine and starvation 
and death.” 

“ You don’t know anything,” replied one of the 
boys, “ and that is the reason we laugh.” 

“ That may be,” answered Choh Lin, “ but I 
mean to learn. I do know one thing, and that is 


IN THE MISSION-SCHOOL. 


199 


that the great men of past ages say that we must 
not laugh at the mistakes of people, but help cor- 
rect them.” 

“ What do you know about the men of past 
ages ?” asked a boy. “ They died long before you 
were born.” 

“ Men die, but their sayings live,” replied Choli 
Lin ; “ so our teacher told us.” 

Not once, but often, did the others try to tease 
the country boy ; usually he was too good-natured 
to become angry. 

One of them asked him one day, “ Is it true that 
the people at Tay Soa are so green that before they 
are allowed to come to the city the village elders 
order them to be put out in the sun for three or 
four days to dry?” 

“ Is it true,” asked Choli Lin in reply, “ that 
when city people go out into the country the man- 
darins are obliged to show them the cows, lest when 
they see them out in the fields they would think 
them lions and tigers and be frightened to death ?” 

“ Why is it that you country people are so brown- 
skinned, and we of the city are so white ?” asked one. 

“ I suppose it is for the same reason,” replied 
Choh Lin, “that farmers hide their plants when 
first set out in the sun — because they are so weak.” 

“ Do you think we city people are weaker than 
you in the country?” asked a boy indignantly. 

“ I only answered Kiong’s question,” replied 
Choh Lin quietly. 


200 


CHOH LIN 


“ If we are weak,” spoke Kiong, “ we are strong 
enough to buy all the good things and sell them for 
the benefit of the country people, who otherwise 
would have nothing but what they raise on the 
land.” 

“ I can tell why country people are all brown,” 
said another boy : “ they are so homely that the sun 
is ashamed to see them, so it paints their faces 
brown, and some almost black.” 

“ Perhaps that is the reason,” replied Choh Lin, 
“ yet the sun is willing to look into the faces of coun- 
try people. But because the city people are so full 
of trickery and dishonesty he turns away from them 
and allows them to grow pale.” 

“ We are no more dishonest in the city than you 
in the country,” said the boy angrily. “ You bring 
stale eggs to the city and sell them for fresh, and 
old fowls for young chickens. Then you fill their 
craws with wet sand, so that we buy a pound or two 
of sand for the same price that we pay for chicken- 
meat.” 

“ I know that country people are not always hon- 
est,” answered Choh Lin, “ but they must cheat to 
try to keep near their city brothers. Yet it is too 
bad to see that the country people are falling so far 
behind that they are losing sight of their friends in 
the city. We cannot learn such things as quickly 
as you. Cheating is like fire: it goes slowly among 
green things, but eats up everything that is dry.” 

The first morning of school, when the teacher 


IN THE MISSION-SCHOOL. 


201 


prayed, Choh Lin at once bowed his head and put 
his hands before his face. The next morning, look- 
ing up a moment at the others before closing his 
eyes, he saw that some heads were not bowed. 
While there were not a few who sat with faces cov- 
ered by their hands, others were looking around the 
room, and two or three were whispering. He did 
not know which was the right way for boys to act, 
nor did he dare ask. He wanted to worship as boys 
should, and, thinking over the matter for a while, 
determined to watch, and the boys that seemed to 
be the best he believed to be the ones who took the 
right way to pray. He soon learned that those who 
sat with bowed heads and listened to the teacher’s 
prayer were the safe ones to follow. 

He learned how to act not only during time of 
prayer, but at all times, and gradually his “ green- 
ness ” passed away. But he did not lose the hearty 
good-nature and happy boyishness of the country, 
though he became as polished as any in the school. 
He was really polished : soft things may be made 
smooth, but it is the hard and the solid only that 
can be polished. Choh Lin had some of this hard 
grit in his character, and the teacher, as well as 
the missionaries, saw that he would not only bear 
polishing, but that it would be worth while to 
do it. 

Gradually he won the respect of his teacher and 
the missionaries. While most of the boys learned 
to like him, others became jealous and tried to annoy 


202 


CHOH LIN. 


him long after the rest gave up teasing him about the 
country. These accused him of making presents to 
the teacher to win his favor. Choli Lin had made 
a short visit to Tay Soa after being some months in 
school, and brought several presents from the couu- 
try for his friends and the teacher. In vain did 
Choh Lin deny that he had done this to gain favors 
from the teacher ; it was enough for the few that he 
had given him presents. The boy said that it was 
their duty to show respect to their teacher, and that 
was all his present was meant for. The great diffi- 
culty with these boys was that they were too lazy to 
study, and did not like to hear Choh Lin praised 
for success and themselves blamed for not doing 
well. More than that, they did not like to see the 
missionaries take so much more notice of this coun- 
try boy than of themselves. Their dislike in time 
became almost hate, aud they were eager to find 
something against the boy. 

One day, as he was coming out of the schoolroom, 
some one behind pushed him against another in 
front. That one, Kok, turned angrily and struck 
Choh Lin, saying as he did so, “ You green country 
boy, cannot you come out of school without trying 
to push others over?” 

The blow was so unexpected that Choh Lin, 
without taking time to think, struck back, and re- 
ceived a blow in return. This would have led to a 
fight had not the teacher heard the disturbance and 
come to the door. He was surprised to see his fa- 


IN THE MISSION-SCHOOL. 


203 


vorite pupil striking another, and sharply rebuked 
Choh Lin. Too much confused to reply, the boy 
walked away. This gave those unfriendly to him 
an opportunity to say unkind things for the teach- 
er’s ears. 

Choh Lin saw that he had lost favor with the 
teacher, and feared that the missionaries, if they 
heard of the trouble, would send him away from 
school. He wanted to explain to his teacher and 
beg him not to tell the missionaries, but dared not. 
He resolved, however, that he would not strike any 
one again, no matter how great the provocation. 

Some time after this the teacher’s pen and also 
some papers from his desk were missing; among the 
papers was a record of misbehavior of some of the 
scholars. Choh Lin happened to be absent from 
the school the day that the loss was discovered. All 
the other scholars denied having been to the teach- 
er’s desk, and said that they had seen nothing of 
either pen or papers. The teacher determined to 
find out if any one had taken the pen and paper, and 
examined the desk of each boy. He found nothing 
of the missing record, but did find some of the 
paper and the pen at Choh Lin’s place. The teach- 
er was greatly troubled at this discovery, though he 
said very little about it to the scholars. They, 
however, had seen him take the pen and papers 
from Choh Lin’s desk. The good man hardly 
knew whether to tell the missionaries or to wait 
and have a talk first with the boy. He waited un- 


204 


CHOH LIN. 


til the next day, determined to give Choh Lin a 
chance to explain before telling the missionaries. 

Choh Lin was at school early the next day, and 
the teacher asked him about the pen and papers. 
When told where they had been found, the boy re- 
plied, “ An enemy has done this. I have not taken 
the pen or the papers. Why should I ? The mis- 
sionaries are good to invite me to their school ; 
should I repay them by stealing from the teacher 
they so kindly furnish, and who has himself been 
so kind to me ? More than that, the Lord in the 
Ten Commandments says, ‘ Thou shalt not steal/ I 
am trying to obey and serve that Lord ; why should 
I, then, prove myself so unfaithful to him ?” 

The honest look of the boy would have convinced 
almost any one but a Chinaman that Choh Lin was 
telling the truth. But the teacher was so used to 
the deceitful ways of his people, and knew so welt 
how a look of honesty can be assumed by them, 
that he was not convinced of the boy’s innocence. 
“ We will see,” he said. “ It is almost time to be- 
gin school ; we will talk of it some other time.” 

“ Please do not tell the pastors,” pleaded Choh 
Lin ; “ they will drive me from the school ; then I 
must go back to my native village to live again 
among the heathen. There I cannot learn to read, 
nor are there any Christians with whom I may wor- 
ship. There is no Sabbath there, no Bible, no God. 
Please don’t send me back ; I want to be a Chris- 
tian. I did not steal.” 


IN THE MISSION-SCHOOL. 


205 


The kind-hearted teacher was almost convinced 
of Choh Lin’s honesty, and agreed to say nothing 
about the matter to the missionaries. Some of the 
scholars, knowing where the pen and papers had 
been found, were ready to believe Choh Lin a thief, 
though some insisted that his enemies had put the 
articles there, and they were ready to say who had 
done it, too. 

A few days after this the chapel-keeper, who also 
took care of the schoolroom, overheard some boys 
say that Choh Lin had stolen the teacher’s pen and 
some papers and hid them in the desk. 

“ What !” said he, “ Choh Lin stolen pen and 
papers? That cannot be. He is an inquirer and 
don’t steal.” When told the whole story, the 
chapel-keeper, who was a great friend of Choh Lin, 
said, “ I can tell all about that. I found some 
pieces of paper and a pen on the floor one night ; 
the paper was by a mouse-hole ; perhaps the mouse 
had carried the rest into his hole. I picked them 
up and put them by Choh Lin’s seat. I saw that 
he had no pen, and thought if this were not his he 
would see that the owner got it. He is a boy whom 
we all can trust. You will find it out some day, 
too, and be sorry that you called him a thief now.” 

The chapel-keeper’s explanation was given to the 
teacher and to the scholars, and Choh Lin was again 
in favor. Even those who did not like him could 
find nothing now to say against him. His kindness 
and readiness to help others gradually won almost 


206 


CHOH LIN. 


all of the scholars as his warm friends; and when 
they learned that his father had once been rich they 
were the more ready to respect and honor him. 
Yet a few of the boys watched him closely, not so 
much to find fault in him as to keep him from 
seeing and telling of their faults. 

It has already been said that few vices are so 
common in China as gambling : boys as well as 
men are passionately fond of it. They are ready 
to try games of chance for almost anything. Some 
would probably even be willing to take a chance or 
two at a church fair if they lived in America. One 
day after school a boy appeared in the street with a 
quantity of preserved fruit. He had also a bam- 
boo-cup, or tube made of bamboo-wood, open at one 
end, the other closed by the joint. In this cup were 
twenty or twenty-five small splints of bamboo, pro- 
jecting out of the cup. These were numbered on 
the ends which were hidden. He invited the 
school-boys to try their fortune for some of his 
fruit. By paying a single cash, he said, they might 
get the value of five cash in fruit if they drew a 
lucky number from the cup. When the boys saw 
how much fruit might be got for one cash, several 
were eager to try. The owner, after shaking the 
cup with the splints, reached it out to the boy who 
gave him one cash. The boy drew one of the 
splints, but the number was a wrong one, and the 
owner of the fruit said, “You will have to try 
again ; that didn’t draw anything.” 


IN THE MISSION-SCHOOL. 


207 


One of the other boys handed a cash, drew a stick, 
and the number proved to be the right one. 

“ Here are your fruits,” said the owner, giving 
him five times as much as one cash could buy else- 
where. 

The lucky purchaser, munching his fruit and 
looking disdainfully on the others who had not 
dared to venture, said, “ See what I got for a single 
cash ! You boys might have fruit in plenty if you 
were not afraid to try your luck.” 

His success induced others to try, and many cash 
slipped quickly into the pocket of the fruit-seller. 
While a few drew prizes, the most of the cash were 
given for nothing. 

“ Why don’t you try it?” said Kok to Choh Lin. 
“ Don’t you like fruit?” 

“ Yes,” replied he, “ but I don’t want to get it in 
that way.” 

“Why not?” was asked. 

“ Because it is gambling,” answered Choh Lin. 

“ It isn’t gambling,” said one ; “ it is only buying 
fruit and taking the chances of getting it.” 

“ It is gambling,” spoke another, “ and just the 
kind we school-boys are forbidden to engage in.” 

When the fruit-seller heard that they were school- 
boys belonging to the foreign school, he hurried 
away, lest the foreigners should complain to the 
mandarins of his keeping a fruit-gambling stand. 
He knew very well that it would take all of his 
gains to buy off the mandarins, who would be glad 


208 


CHOH LIN. 


enough to arrest a boy for promoting gambling. 
They would thus seem to be very active in having 
the laws respected ; and yet those very mandarins 
would probably join in gambling with men if they 
could do it without being discovered. 

The next day at school there was some talk 
among the boys about gambling for fruit. The 
teacher overheard this. At noon he called Clioh 
Lin to him and asked, “ Were any of you boys 
gambling yesterday ?” 

Choh Lin, unable to say no, unwilling to say yes, 
not caring to tell tales of the others, was silent. 
The teacher saw this silence, and understood it to 
mean not only the guilt of the other boys, but of 
Choh Lin. 

“ So you have been gambling ?” said he. “ Do you 
not know it is against the rules of the school, and 
that it is a sin against the Church and the law of 
God ? You are an inquirer and wish to be a Chris- 
tian. Don’t think that you can be one and gamble 
too. The Bible says you cannot serve God and 
Mammon; and gambling is the worst kind of 
Mammon-worship.” 

“ I have not gambled,” replied the boy, “ and do 
want to be a Christian ; I am trying to be one and 
obey God.” 

“ Who of the boys were gambling?” asked the 
teacher, “ for I see that there has been gambling 
done.” 

Questioned closely, Choh Lin at last told about 


IN THE MISSION-SCHOOL. 


209 


the gambling, and he would not have been like the 
Chinese if he had steadily refused to tell who did 
try their chances. 

That afternoon the teacher, after a serious talk 
about the crime and sin of gambling before the 
whole school, questioned the boys as to who had 
been engaged in it. He asked the guilty ones so 
closely that, though some denied and others con- 
fessed, fcll felt sure he knew who some of the guilty 
ones were, and some were certain that Choh Lin 
had told. The gamblers were punished, and they 
blamed Choh Lin for it. For a while this made 
him less popular, but the feeling wore away. Tell- 
ing tales is not despised in China as it is with us. 
When the boys were told how the teacher had found 
out, some asked Choh Lin why he did not tell a 
falsehood about it ; others said that he had done 
right; and there the matter ended. 

14 


CHAPTER XXI. 


TRYING TO BE A CHRISTIAN. 

HEN in his native village Choh Lin chought 



hiniself a Christian. He had given up wor- 
shiping idols and the spirits of the dead, prayed to 
the God of the foreigners and kept the Sabbath 
day ; so he thought himself as good a Christian as 
anybody. His mother had tried to teach him that 
he and all others are sinners, but since the Chinese 
language has no words that give the Bible idea of 
sin and sinners, the boy had very little notion of 
sin. He supposed that he had merely displeased 
the foreign God by choosing Chinese gods, and now 
that he had changed gods he thought all had been 
made right. Yet he did not feel satisfied. That 
first Sabbath in the mission-chapel had opened his 
eyes to many things of which he had never thought. 
He had been like one walking by the light of a lan- 
tern in a dark night, seeing a few things near, but 
only darkness beyond. Then the moon, rising, 
showed many other things, but all dimly. The 
teaching his mother had given was like the lantern- 
light, and that of the chapel was as moonlight. 
Choh Lin was beginning to see much, but dimly. 


210 


TRYING TO BE A CHRISTIAN. 


211 


His mother had told him that there was only one 
God, and yet that there was a Father and a Son and 
a Holy Spirit. How there could be only one, and 
yet three, he did not understand. He had learned 
from her that God would not have any to worship 
him who served other gods. Yet he did not under- 
stand that God wanted not outward but heart wor- 
ship. Mrs. Lee had told him that he must trust 
in Jesus, the Son of God, but Choh Lin could not 
understand this. His great need was to know him- 
self — to know what a sinner he was and how help- 
less without an almighty Saviour. Not less did he 
need to know God, and that he is so pure and holy 
that he cannot accept the service of a sinner who 
does not approach him through Christ. 

Choh Lin learned rapidly that first day in the 
chapel, but still more did he learn at the inquiry- 
meeting. He was beginning to see the darkness in 
which he had lived. Now the light came more and 
more brightly, and Choh Lin felt more and more 
thankful that he was allowed to see, and he was 
anxious to see more. His prayer that the Holy 
Spirit would show him his sins was answered, and 
what the language of his country failed to tell the 
Spirit made known to his heart. He began to see 
what sin is — how it blinds the eyes of the soul and 
hardens the heart and unfits it to enjoy good. He 
saw, too, how it stains the soul, so that it is unfit 
for God’s company and service, and unfit to enjoy 
and unable to receive the blessings that God offers. 


212 


CHOH LIN 


He saw that the sinful soul is not only bad, but a 
place in which bad things grow — that evil is con- 
stantly springing up there as weeds in a garden. 
He saw, too, what sin had done for him and made 
him do against God. When he thought of the 
many times he had offended God and done the 
things that even his own heart told him he ought 
not to do, he began to understand what a sinner he 
had been. 

He did not long need to pray to be shown his 
sins. They arose all around him; quietly as fog 
appears, so they appeared. From fog they changed 
to clouds — black clouds, loaded with rain and wind 
and thunder. What if they should burst? In a 
moment they would overwhelm him. What should 
he do? where could he go? Helpless, he was al- 
most hopeless. In fear and distress he prayed for 
mercy. He felt the need of a Saviour now, and an 
almighty one. Earnestly he prayed the prayer 
given by the missionary, to be shown Christ as his 
Saviour. 

That prayer, too, was answered. It was daybreak 
now, and daylight came swiftly. Full light shone 
into the soul of the Chinese boy. The bright sun 
rose. Jesus, the Sun of righteousness, sent his glo- 
rious light into Choh Lin’s soul, and, lo ! the dark 
clouds of sin vanished. No thunder-peal nor light- 
ning-flash nor storm was near; instead, all was peace 
and beauty. How happy Choh Lin was ! He 
seemed in a new world. It was a new sun that 


TRYING TO BE A CHRISTIAN. 


213 


shone over head, and the clouds in the sky were 
more beautiful than he had ever seen them, while 
the gray rocks of the hills of Amoy appeared to be 
set in green and gold. The far-off hills were the 
same that he had often seen, but never had they 
been so beautiful. He could now sit by the hour 
and admire them. Now they were God’s hills; 
those rocks were God’s rocks ; the clouds and sun 
were his too; and that God was his heavenly 
Father, the one who loved him — so loved him that 
he gave his only-begotten Son to die that he might 
live. How delightful the thought that the great 
God loved him and had forgiven his sins ! More 
than that, God would take care of him always, and 
after a while take him to live in heaven. 

Happy Choh Lin! He had found Christ, and 
his soul was full of joy. He had heard of the love 
of God from the first time his mother had been to 
the chapel, but not until now did he understand it. 
He had heard of men in China who had sold them- 
selves to die that they might get money to support 
their families ; he had heard of great men, too, who 
had given their lives for the good of the people ; 
but that was unlike the love of God in Christ. 
Those men died for their own, for those who loved 
them, but Jesus died for his enemies. Those were 
only men ; Jesus was God. They died, and then 
did no more ; Jesus died, but that was only the be- 
ginning of what he did. He was always trying to 
save men. He seemed never to grow weary of 


214 


CHOH LIN. 


waiting and trying to save. It was a new story of 
love, a wonderful story, and never grew old. 

Choh Lin wondered that others did not love to 
listen to it, nor could he understand how the people 
could hear it again and again and yet not care about 
the Saviour. He did not think that the Holy Spirit 
had made him see his need, and then had led him 
to Christ, and was now making him see so much to 
love in the Saviour. People who see nothing in 
Jesus to love often wonder why Christians think so 
much of him. This is not because Christians are 
blinded, but because others are. God’s people never 
see anything in Jesus that is not there, but others 
fail to know and love Christ because they are blind 
and their hearts are closed to him. A blind man 
cannot see beauties, no matter how plain they are ; 
but if he does not see them, that is no proof that 
the beauties do not exist ; it only proves him blind. 
We pass by strangers every day without a thought 
of love, yet when we become acquainted with those 
same strangers we may love them with all our 
hearts. So people are blind to Christ’s beauty be- 
cause to them he is a stranger. When the Holy 
Spirit opens their eyes and makes them acquainted 
with Christ, then they love him as they can love no 
other being. 

Choh Lin had now found Christ, but did not 
know what difficulties a Christian must meet. 
When persecuted in Tay Soa for being a worshiper 
of the foreigners’ God, he longed to be among Chris- 


TRYING TO BE A CHRISTIAN. 


215 


tians. But he did not find everything as pleasant 
at Amoy as he had hoped. He meant to live a 
good life, but found that there are other things than 
outside persecutions to hinder. In school were 
many little trials hard to bear; so even in his home 
and among his best friends he found troubles. Nor 
were his troubles all from without. His heart had 
them. They seemed to live and grow and multiply 
there. After he learned in the inquiry-meetings 
what he needed, he thought that as soon as he found 
the Saviour all his troubles would end. Now that 
he had found Christ, he was perplexed to know that 
the difficulties in the way of living a Christian life 
did not disappear. While he had little difficulty 
with his studies, he had all the more with the other 
pupils of the school. 

Then there were troubles in the street. Boys 
called him a green country boy, a foreigner’s child, 
and said that he was obliged to leave his native vil- 
lage because the people would not have foreigners’ 
children there. It is true that this kind of perse- 
cution did not last, but there was a trouble that did 
not end, and that was in his own heart. Evil 
thoughts arose; they came just when he least ex- 
pected them. Poor Choh Lin! He began to be- 
lieve himself a hypocrite. He became at times 
wretched, nor did he know what to do. Again the 
evil thoughts left him, and for a while everything 
went well — so well that he became proud of him- 
self. He felt that he was becoming very good, 


216 


CHOH LIN. 


better than other Christians. Suddenly there would 
come a change. Before he had time to see his dan- 
ger he was guilty of some sin, and then was as 
wretched as he had been proud before. 

Choh Lin learned before long that his own evil 
heart, aided by Satan, was the cause of much of 
this difficulty. When he learned how Paul was 
tried by the “ law in his members ” warring against 
“ the law in his mind,” so that he could not do the 
things he would, he learned to be more on his guard. 
Knowing now the danger, he escaped it far oftener 
than before. Although Choh Lin did not always 
do the best he knew, yet he did try to do right, and 
tried hard. Sometimes his evil nature got the better 
of him, and then came sad times of repenting. 
However, he gained in the resistance to evil habits 
and temptations. He was regularly at the inquiry- 
meetings, and his answers to the questions of the 
missionaries showed that he was gaining in knowl- 
edge. The missionaries did not yet admit him to 
the membership of the Church ; they did not feel 
sure that he was a Christian, and thought it safer to 
allow him to wait than to have him become a mem- 
ber too soon. The Chinese inquirers learn so soon 
to repeat from memory the answers to the questions 
at the inquiry- meetings that the missionaries are 
often uncertain whether or not they have become true 
Christians, and therefore postpone admitting them 
to the full communion of the Church. This practice 
of deferring admittance to church-membership has 


TRYING TO BE A CHRISTIAN. 217 

proved to be a wise one. The missionaries have 
continued it only in cases where it seems best. 
But these inquirers are not regarded as outside of 
the Church family ; instead, they are at once taken 
into many of its privileges and receive special care 
and training. 

When his mother was received Choh Lin also 
wished to join the Church ; yet, believing that the 
missionaries knew best, he waited patiently. At 
last the time came when he was to be received into 
the communion of the Church. It was a happy 
day to the young Christian. He could now stand 
before all the world as a follower of Christ. Not 
without prayer and a deep feeling of unworthiness 
did he come before the officers of the Church for 
the final examination, and then seat himself among 
the members to partake of the bread and wine. 
How earnestly he listened to every word of the 
missionary ! How full of meaning to him was that 
communion service! He saw his Saviour in and 
through the whole service; it seemed as if Jesus 
were really there and saying to him, “ This is my 
body broken for you. This cup is the new testa- 
ment in my blood, which is shed for you.” The 
soul of Choh Lin was communing with Jesus, and 
he enjoyed a feast. As he went away it was not to 
leave the communion behind him ; by it he had 
been drawn nearer the Saviour. 

If he had before been careful not to do anything 
wrong, lest he be kept out of the Church, he was 


218 


CHOH LIN 


even more careful now lest he dishonor the Church 
and his Saviour. That he did nothing wrong none 
will suppose — he certainly did fail to do right many 
times — but on the whole he lived a Christian life. 
He was one of the youngest, if not the very young- 
est, member of the Church, being only fifteen years 
old, and because of his youth was the more closely 
watched by Christians, 'with a desire to help him ; 
and he was as closely watched by the heathen, with 
a desire to hinder him. His schoolfellows were 
ready to notice any wrong he might do and report 
it to others. He had not an easy life, yet found a 
strong Arm to help him do right, and a loving 
Saviour to pity and pardon when he did wrong. 

There came to Choh Lin a trial that he hoped 
had been left at Tay Soa. He suffered want. His 
mother, who had been able to support one family at 
Tay Soa from her business, was not able to support 
two, even though containing only the same persons. 
It cost more to live at Amoy ; she had the rent to 
pay, besides, in the city, and Choh Lin was unable 
to help by hunting fuel or food. Mrs. Lee, rather 
than let her mother-in-law suffer, often went with- 
out food herself. Choh Lin’s wants were cared for 
as well as she was able, but he was hungry many a 
time. Sometimes he wondered why the Lord did 
not send them food as he did to Elijah, or make an 
abundance of a little as Christ did : but, again, he 
felt that when the Lord was ready their wants 
would be supplied. 


TRYING TO BE A CHRISTIAN. 


219 


Chi Lap helped his mother and brother a little in 
their time of need. His wages in the mission fam- 
ily were more than he needed to supply his wants, 
and he gladly gave them all he could spare. He 
did not remain long in the mission family. A mer- 
chant offered him much larger wages, and he ac- 
cepted the position after talking the matter over 
with the missionary. He now hired a small house 
on the island of Ko-long-su, opposite and near 
Amoy, where he, his mother and brother lived in 
comfort. Choh Lin now could see that God had 
only tried their faith, and felt that he could not be 
thankful enough for prosperity. 





CHAPTER XXII. 


BUSINESS OFFERS. 

D URING their time of poverty in Amoy, Choh 
Lin continued at school. At times he talked 
to his mother and brother of trying to earn a living, 
but they urged him to keep at school, promising to 
do their part now in supporting him, and saying 
that when he became learned his turn would come 
to help them. So anxious was Mrs. Lee that he 
should continue studying that she would have 
starved herself rather than see him go into business. 
She had a purpose in all this, though she kept it hid- 
den. She wished to see her youngest son a learned 
man, not that he might become an honored scholar, 
but that he might preach the gospel that had brought 
light and gladness to her dark soul. For this she 
hoped and prayed, and for this she was ready to 
make any sacrifice. 

Choh Lin liked to study, nor had he lost the de- 
sire of being learned that he might become rich ; 
but there had arisen in his heart another desire : it 
was to be learned that he might do good. The love 
of Christ was gradually conquering all other love, 
and making the young Christian think more of 
220 


BUSINESS OFFERS. 


221 


others than of self. But if any thoughts of be- 
coming a regular preacher of the gospel entered the 
mind of Choh Lin, they did not stay there long at 
a time. 

Though living on the island of Ko-long-su and 
going to and from school, he saw much of the city 
and people of Amoy and learned much about the 
foreign merchants, there. He saw Chi Lap in the 
employ of one and making money rapidly, and 
could not help wishing to be in the employ of for- 
eigners too. Chi Lap was soon promoted, and had 
an increase of salary. When he talked to his 
younger brother of money-making, Choh Lin could 
not keep down the longing to be in business. He 
had already far more education than his older 
brother, and could not help thinking that he might 
soon receive a larger salary than Chi Lap. About 
this time one of the missionaries otfered Choh Lin 
a place in his family as servant at good wages. The 
boy wanted to accept at once, but there arose in his 
heart the feeling that if he did he would not be 
able to do so much good as he might by continuing 
at school. This, together with the urging of his 
mother and brother that he stay at school, made 
him refuse the offer. 

Not long after a foreign physician in Amoy, who 
had noticed the bright boy, offered him a place not 
only as errand-boy, but as an assistant in his office. 
The doctor told him that he would pay good wages, 
far more than he could earn at other work. When 


222 


CHOH LIN. 


Choh Lin seemed unwilling to accept, the doctor 
offered him twenty dollars a month as salary. 
Twenty dollars a month ! This was more money 
than the boy had ever owned at one time, and far 
more than he dared hope to earn for years to come. 
He could hardly believe his ears, and asked again. 

“ Yes, I will give you twenty dollars a month, ” 
said the doctor. “ That is more than six times as 
much as a workingman can earn ; and I will give 
you that to begin with ; then as soon as you learn the 
business I will increase the salary. You are just 
the kind of boy I want. Some day you may be- 
come a foreign doctor yourself, and then you can 
make your fortune.” 

Choh Lin could hardly give any answer. The 
offer was so large that it seemed impossible to be- 
lieve it real. The doctor, however, convinced him 
that he was in earnest, yet gave the boy time to 
think of it and to consult the missionaries about 
it. 

As money in China will buy about twelve times 
as much as in America, this offer was equal to near- 
ly three thousand dollars a year here. It was a 
great temptation to a boy who had lived in poverty 
and almost starved for lack of money to buy food. 
Eagerly he hastened home to tell of the wonderful 
offer, expecting, of course, that his mother and 
brother would urge his acceptance. 

Chi Lap was pleased and proud of his younger 
brother, yet could not help showing his disappoint- 


BUSINESS OFFERS. 


2‘23 


ment as he said, “ Of course the little brother must 
accept. There is a fortune in it. Such offers do 
not come often ; yet I wanted to see him a learned 
man first.” 

“ I do not see why he should accept,” said Mrs. 
Lee. “ You are earning enough to support us all 
now ; we have enough to eat and drink and wear. 
I do not wish to see Choh Lin go into business yet. 
Let him wait until he has been longer at school.” 

“ Mother, I have been a long time at school, and 
can read and write well ; why should I not begin 
now to earn money ? You and Chi Lap have taken 
care of me so long that it is time for me to earn 
something. I may never get so good an offer 
again.” So spoke Choh Lin as he wistfully looked 
from Chi Lap to his mother. 

“There is a better offer waiting your answer,” 
replied the mother. 

“A better offer! What is it?” inquired Choh 
Lin eagerly. “ I have heard of nothing else.” 

“ It is this,” replied Mrs. Lee, slowly quoting 
from the Bible as well as she could remember : 
“ ‘ There is no man that shall leave house and land 
and father and mother, for my sake and the king- 
dom of heaven,- who shall not receive in this life a 
hundred-fold more, and in the world to come life 
everlasting.’ There,” continued she, “ is the offer 
of our Lord to you, Choh Lin. It has been wait- 
ing for you to accept. It is a great deal larger than 
that of the physician. Which will you take?” 


224 


CHOH LIN. 


Suddenly a glimpse of the meaning of his mother 
flashed on the boy’s mind, and he asked, “ Do you 
mean that I must give up this good offer for Christ’s 
sake, mother?” 

“ Yes,” was the reply. 

“ But how must I do it for him ? Cannot I serve 
him as well in the doctor’s office as in any other 
way ? Besides, shall I not have plenty of money 
with which to do good?” 

“ You cannot preach the gospel in the doctor’s 
office.” 

“ Preach the gospel !” spoke Choh Lin in sur- 
prise. “ How did you know that I thought of be- 
coming a preacher?” 

“I did not know it, but, my boy” — here the 
mother’s voice trembled — “ I have prayed that you 
might become a preacher. For that I have hoped 
and struggled — yes, and have starved myself too — 
that you might keep at school to prepare for that 
work. The Lord has been very good. He has 
spared both of my boys to me; he has sent the 
teachers to tell me of the life-giving God and of a 
Saviour; and I have wanted to give one of my boys 
back to his service. The Lord has done so much 
for us that I hoped we could spare one of our fam- 
ily for his service, to prove that we are willing to 
do something for his cause.” 

“ Do you mean that Choh Lin is to become a 
preacher?” asked Chi Lap. 

“ Yes ; I have hoped and prayed that he may,” 


BUSINESS OFFERS. 


225 


was the mother’s answer. “ We have found the 
Saviour, and it seems but just to our people that 
we should do something to tell them of a Saviour 
too.” 

“ But I can give money to educate and support 
another preacher,” replied Choh Lin. 

“ Where is the man ?” asked Mrs. Lee. “ While 
we are waiting to find him many may perish with- 
out hearing of the Saviour; but Choh Lin might 
tell them. Yes, he might, only he wished to earn 
money. While he was earning money the souls 
were lost. ‘ What shall a man give in exchange 
for his soul?’” 

Choh Lin was silent, and Mrs. Lee, after a few 
moments’ waiting, continued: “ Wait, my son ; don’t 
decide just yet. Think a while of what the Saviour 
did for you, and ask what he would have you do 
for him. Pray to be shown the way. It may be 
that I am wrong ; the Lord knows best what you 
can do for him. Look to him, and he will show 
the way. Whatever you do, first ask the mission- 
aries about it.” 

His mother’s talk was so earnest that Choh Lin 
could not help thinking of what she said. He 
prayed as well as thought over the offer; he asked 
the missionaries, too, but he asked with such an un- 
certain tone, as if himself half decided to continue 
at school, that they at once advised him to go on 
with his studies. 

Hardly daring to go against his mother’s earnest 

15 


22(3 


CHOH LIN. 


wish, and more than half convinced that she was 
right, Choh Lin decided to decline the offer of the 
doctor. At times afterward he felt that he had done 
right, and at others felt sorry that he had refused so 
good an opportunity. He did not yet see clearly 
his duty to preach the gospel ; rather, he could not 
at once give up the idea of becoming a rich man. 
The spirit of self-denial for Christ was gradually 
taking possession of his heart. 

This was not the only offer that Choh Lin had. 
He was becoming well known and quite a favorite 
among the foreigners. Since his brother proved so 
good a business-man they thought that the younger 
brother would be likely to be equally good. For- 
eigners were making money very rapidly then, and 
were willing to pay large salaries to Chinamen 
whom they could trust. The fact that Choh Lin 
was in the mission-school and had been much with 
foreigners, and thus had learned their ways, made 
him the more desirable. Then he was a Christian 
and an honest boy or young man; that made him 
worth more than twice the amount many foreigners 
were willing to pay to a heathen. So much better 
and more trusty are the Christian than the heathen 
Chinese that it was not an uncommon thing when 
the writer lived in China for heathen to steal cer- 
tificates of character of Christians and use them as 
an almost sure way of getting employment. 

A most tempting offer came to Choh Lin from a 
foreign merchant some time after that of the doctor 


BUSINESS OFFERS. 


227 


had been refused. A merchant in Amoy who knew 
the young student well, wanted to start a branch of 
his business in the island of Formosa, and looked 
around for a trusty Chinaman to put at the head of 
it. One day he invited Choh Lin to his office and 
offered him a position as clerk at a salary of fifty 
dollars a month. After he became sufficiently ac- 
quainted with the business, the merchant said, he 
wanted him to start a branch of it in Formosa and 
take a share in the profits in addition to his salary. 

This was an offer that few Chinamen, even in 
those days of large salaries, received. To us the 
offer may not seem a large one, but, remembering 
the value of money in China, the offer was equal to 
six thousand dollars a year here. Such a salary, 
for a schoolboy not yet eighteen years old, was a 
very large one. 

No wonder that Choh Lin was compelled to pray 
long and earnestly before he could decide to reject this 
opportunity. He had, however, been led to think 
more of preaching the gospel since he had declined 
t lie doctor’s offer. When he told the missionaries 
of these opportunities, they could not ask him to 
refuse. They wished him to study for the ministry, 
but could not urge him to decline so tempting an 
offer. They told him that he must do as he thought 
best, but urged him not to think alone of money. 
They spoke of the need of preachers, and told him 
of the Lord’s reward to his faithful servants. They 
said also that they wished him to study, and would 


228 


CHOII LIN 


be very glad if be decided to give his life to the 
ministry. They said that they could never afford 
to give one-fifth part as much money as the mer- 
chant promised, yet they would give him enough, 
when a preacher, to provide for his wants; and, 
further, if he should decide to become a preacher, 
they would allow him money enough now to defray 
his necessary expenses. They made no tempting 
offers, but merely said that the Lord would reward 
him in the end if he gave up anything for the 
Lord’s sake. 

“ How much do you allow young men while 
studying, and how much after they become preach- 
ers?” asked Choh Lin. 

“We will allow you two dollars and a half a 
month while studying,” was the answer, “ and when 
you preach the allowance will depend on your ex- 
penses — from four to eight dollars a month. But 
we do not wish you to preach for the sake of 
making money. If that be your object, we do not 
want you at all. We only want those who are anx- 
ious to save their countrymen, and who are willing 
to make sacrifices for Christ. We do not pay 
preachers for their work and sacrifice; the Lord 
does that when the work is done. We only keep 
them from want while at work. Souls are worth 
a sacrifice. Has not our Saviour done enough to 
make us willing to do a great deal for him and for 
the souls he loves and died to save ?” 

After talking the matter over further, the mis- 


BUSINESS OFFERS. 


229 


sionaries advised Clioh Lin to think and pray over 
the offer of the merchant, and to think and pray as 
earnestly over his duty, before deciding to accept or 
decline the opportunity for business. 

Had the offer been made a few months earlier, it 
would have been accepted, but now Choh Lin hesi- 
tated. He was much better able now to think of 
the ministry than he had been then. He had been 
growing in a spirit of self-denial ; he had also 
learned more of the love of Jesus, and had given 
himself more fully to the Saviour; in short, he 
lived nearer the cross than he had done, and was 
better able to think of his duty to Christ and to his 
fellow-men. Dollars did not seem to him quite as 
large now as before : the more he thought of Christ 
and of souls the smaller did money seem in com- 
parison. 

When alone, Choh Lin weighed the two offers — 
the one of the merchant and the other of the mis- 
sionaries. Here was an offer of fifty dollars a 
month now, and soon to be increased ; and in a few 
years he would be a rich man. He would be able 
to live well and would be honored by all. 

On the other hand was the offer of two dollars 
and a half a month, or just one-twentieth of the 
merchant's offer. It is true the two dollars and a 
half might be increased to four, or even eight, pos- 
sibly to ten, dollars in a few years, but he could 
never expect to receive more. So, at the very most, 
being a preacher, he could not expect to receive, 


230 


CHOH LIN 


after years of preparation, more than one-fifth of 
what he was offered now by the merchant. 

Then the work. He would as a merchant’s clerk, 
and soon as overseer of the business, have regular 
hours for work, and when they were over he would 
have nothing to do ; he might rest and do as he 
chose. As a preacher his work would never be 
done ; day and night he must be burdened with care 
and anxiety as well as work. He must economize 
in every possible way — live in any house, no matter 
how poor, that the mission was able to provide for 
him. More than that, he must go wherever he 
might be sent, live among strangers, and probably 
have no permanent home. As a merchant he would 
have a comfortable home, enjoy all luxuries and be 
almost entirely his own master. Then, too, if a 
merchant, he would be respected by everybody, but 
as a preacher he would be despised by his people as 
trying to overthrow the religion of his fathers and 
set up instead that of the hated foreigners. He 
would be mocked, insulted, abused, and possibly 
killed, for preaching a foreign religion. 

Thus did Choh Lin look at the two offers, but 
did not stop there. There came second thoughts. 
“ True,” said he to himself, “ I will be honored, 
have an easy life and become rich ; but I must die 
some day. What then? What good will honor, 
luxury and wealth do me when I am dead ? Then 
I must meet the souls of my countrymen whom for 
a fortune I now propose to neglect. I will have 


BUSINESS OFFERS. 


231 


gained the fortune only to lose it then, and will ne- 
glect the souls now to lose them then too. I must 
meet the Saviour who gave himself for me, and I 
must meet him empty-handed. I will have nothing 
to show for my life. Then I will see that all the 
honors and rewards of an eternity have been given 
for a little ease, a little honor, a few thousand dol- 
lars, during the short life of earth. If I become a 
preacher I must remain poor and unhonored, per- 
haps despised; my life will be a hard one, but it 
will soon end. Then what? No more poverty or 
toil or disgrace. Then will begin riches, reward, 
rest, glory. Then Jesus will say, ‘ Inasmuch as ye 
did it unto the least of these, ye did it to me/ 
Then he will say, ‘ Well done, good and faithful 
servant; be thou ruler over many things ; enter thou 
into the joy of thy Lord/ And all this for eternity, 
never to end ! Can it be that I ever thought of 
entering man’s service when God wanted me? — of 
looking for dollars as my pay when God offers im- 
mortal souls? — of giving all my life for time when 
an eternity is waiting for it ? Have I been so 
blinded? Do I know so little of Jesus, so little 
of the true Christian life? I begin to see and know 
— yes, and mean to begin to do too. No, I will not 
be a merchant. Dollars cannot buy me. I belong 
not to this world, but to eternity, and for that I will 
live. Yes, I will be a preacher.” 

When Choh Lin made known his decision, all 
his friends except the missionaries and his mother 


232 


CHOH LIN. 


thought him foolish. They tried to persuade him 
to accept the merchant’s offer, but in vain. He 
said little in reply, but quietly told the merchant 
that he could not accept, and the missionaries that 
he was ready to begin his study for the ministry. 

When Choh Lin declined the offer the merchant 
made it to Chi Lap. It was at once accepted, and 
the older brother was on the road to riches. After 
learning the business of the merchant in Amoy, Chi 
Lap was sent to Formosa. There he rapidly rose 
in honor. He proved himself an excellent business- 
man, and not only made money for his employer, 
but became rich himself. Before he was thirty 
years of age Chi Lap was regarded as a rich man. 
But riches proved dangerous. Wealth led him into 
sin. He was disciplined by the Church for wrong- 
doing, and seemed almost an outcast from his Chris- 
tian brethren. For years he lived away from the 
Church and, it is to be feared, away from God. 
Disease slowly weakened his strength and misfor- 
tune gradually diminished his riches. It is true, 
he repented of his folly and became a penitent and, 
we trust, a faithful Christian, but too late to remedy 
the evil of his life. Saddened, disappointed and 
amid the shadows of dishonor through his unfaith- 
ful life, he sank into the grave. For ten years he 
had enjoyed his riches, but before he was forty years 
of age he left a half-wasted fortune, a dishonored 
life, to tell of the failure he had made. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


A NEW RELATIVE. 

*\TTE go back in our story to the rebellion in 
" * Amoy, to tell of a man who may already be 
known to some of Choh Lin’s friends. 

When the imperial army encamped north of 
Amoy, the people in a small village near became 
frightened, and, leaving their homes, sought refuge 
in the city. Some of these found their way to the 
mission-chapel and there became acquainted with 
the missionaries. The strangers received so kindly 
a welcome that they looked upon the foreigners as 
true friends, and at once were ready to listen to 
what they had to say. The gospel was something 
new and pleased them ; but when they learned that 
the object of the missionaries was to persuade people 
to give up the worship of the gods, and especially 
of the spirits of the dead, they were less attentive. 
Some of them, however, had become too much in- 
terested to stay away from the chapel. Among 
these was a young man named Jap Han Chiong. 
He was a bright, active, though quiet and modest 
young man, and greatly respected by the people of 
his village. 


233 


234 


CHOH LIN. 


When peace was restored in the city the strangers 
were anxious to return to their home. Before start- 
ing they sent Han Chiong to the mandarins to ask 
if it would be safe to go back. The Rev. Dr. Tal- 
mage of the American mission, who had won the 
confidence of the refugees, was asked to accompany 
the young man. The two were politely received by 
the government officers, but were told that as it was 
uncertain what the rebels would do, it would be 
better for the strangers to remain a while longer in 
Amoy. 

When Dr. Talmage and Han Chiong came back, 
old Mr. Jap showed great pleasure at the interest 
the foreigners had taken in himself and friends, 
and spoke to the missionary about the Christian 
religion. He said it was good, and just the religion 
for the young people of China. He even asked Dr. 
Talmage to make a Christian of Han Chiong. 

Day after day the old man’s interest in the for- 
eigners and their religion deepened, and he wished 
that his son might become a Christian. In one of 
his talks with the missionaries about Han Chiong 
the question was asked of Mr. Jap, “ Why do not 
you become a Christian ? If these doctrines are so 
good for your son, why should not they be good for 
his father?” 

“They are good, very good,” replied the old 
man, “but I am too -old to accept them now. 
When a man is seventy years of age it is time 
for him to think of the spirit-world and the pres- 


A NEW RELATIVE. 


235 


ence of his fathers there, but not to change his 
religion.” 

When told that he was not too old to seek the 
true God and give himself to the Saviour, he con- 
tinued, “ It is too late for me now to begin to serve 
the foreign God. My feet have so long trodden in 
the old that they cannot now begin to walk in the 
new path. But the feet of Han Chiong are not yet 
hardened by the long walk; let him turn to the new 
path. It will be easy for him to walk in the new 
way. It is the best way. Had I known of it ear- 
lier I would be far along in the path, but it is too 
late now. My sun is near the western mountains ; 
if I change from one to the other way now, the sun 
may set before I have learned the new road. If the 
darkness should come upon me when in neither 
way, what could I do ? There would be no hope, 
no place for my spirit.” 

Though unwilling to change his religion, yet Mr. 
Jap was regularly at the chapel-service. He cared 
less and less for superstitious customs and idol-wor- 
ship, and, though unwilling to own it, he was slow- 
ly giving up all for Christ. Before he went back 
to his village lie was an inquirer after the truth, 
and when he left Amoy for his home he left it de- 
termined to be a Christian. His wife, who was 
also old, was nearly as much interested as he in 
Christianity, and some time after they reached the 
village they both were received into the Church, 
and with others became the first members of what 


236 


CHOH LIN. 


is now the Chinese Christian church of O Kang. 
Old Mr. Jap lived to the very unusual age in China 
of ninety years, and the last twenty were spent in 
the service of Jesus. 

Han Chiong was more ready to listen to his 
father’s advice than Mr. Jap supposed. From the 
first he was interested in the gospel and anxious to 
learn about Christianity. He gradually let it be 
known that he too was ready to give up the old for 
the new religion ; and when his father and mother 
became members of the Church their son was with 
them. 

Han Chiong was too active and able a man to 
remain long hidden in his native village. Not a 
great while after he left Amoy he returned to the 
city to engage in business there. He at once joined 
himself to the Christians, and became known as one 
of the most active and faithful of all. 

A few years after he moved to Amoy, the church 
founded there by the American missionaries, one of 
the first organized churches in China, had grown so 
large that it was thought best to divide it, and the 
second church was formed. Han Chiong was cho- 
sen an elder in this organization. Not long after 
the new church was formed the native Christians 
of the two churches, advised by the missionaries, 
came to the decision that they were able to support 
pastors of their own. Often was the matter talked 
of and prayed over, and the way seemed clear for 
the churches to move forward ; but the question was, 


A NEW RELATIVE. 


237 


Who shall be chosen as pastors? There was not a 
native Christian in or around Amoy fitted for the 
office. It was finally decided that the members of 
each church should meet and choose pastors from 
the native Christians, and then have these men 
study with the missionaries until fitted to become 
regular ministers. 

The meetings were solemn ones. The members 
felt that it was a very serious undertaking to choose 
men all untried to become their spiritual guides. 
Not less anxious were the missionaries that this 
first effort of the Chinese Christian Church to take 
care of itself should start successfully, but more 
anxious were they that the guiding hand of God 
should be plainly seen in the new undertaking. 

“Whom shall we choose?” was often and anx- 
iously asked, and gradually the answer came to one 
after another. When the meetings were held the 
anxious prayers and earnest looks told more of the 
interest all had in the result than the uncertainty 
about the men to be chosen. When the vote was 
taken, Mr. Lo, an elder and one of the best men 
of the first church, was chosen as its pastor, and 
Jap Han Chiong was chosen to become pastor of 
the second church. 

Both men felt unfit for the work to which they 
were called, but, like true men and faithful Chris- 
tians, said that they would do the best they could 
in the office to which the Lord seemed through his 
Church to call them. 


288 


CHOH UN. 


The two began at once to study for the ministry, 
and were in a few years ordained and installed pas- 
tors of the churches that had called them. After 
some years of devoted work Pastor Lo was called 
home to enjoy the rest and reward that the Lord 
gives his faithful servants. Pastor Jap, as Han 
Chiong is now called, still remains, after more than 
twenty years of faithful, successful service, the loved 
and honored pastor of the second church of Amoy. 
He was probably the first ordained native pastor in 
China, and thus is the oldest pastor, though not the 
oldest man, among the many pastors of China. For 
twenty years has Han Chiong proved that a China- 
man can win and hold the love of a Christian peo- 
ple, hold the respect and confidence of unbelieving 
as well as Christian foreigners, and live a blessing 
to the church that loves to call him pastor. 

Again we go back in the story. After Mrs. Lee 
moved to Amoy she learned that her mother-in-law 
was trying to bring about a marriage between Choh 
Lin’s sister and a young man in the country. The 
old lady felt much troubled that at least one of her 
grandsons and her daughter-in-law had deserted the 
religion of their fathers, and determined, if possible, 
to keep the granddaughter from going the same 
way. She did not know that her granddaughter 
was already trying to live a Christian life. Being 
a young woman now, according to Chinese custom 
she could not go to the temple nor to any idolatrous 
gatherings, and she always excused herself from the 


A NEW RELATIVE. 


239 


idolatrous practices that could be attended to in the 
house. She did not hide from the old lady her 
wish to be a Christian, but as anything said in favor 
of the foreign religion only caused an outburst of 
anger, the girl soon learned to say little about it. 

The grandmother felt sure that only one thing 
was needed to draw the young woman back to idol- 
atry, and that was to marry her into a heathen 
family. So every effort was put forth to bring 
about an engagement. The people of Tay Soa 
were ready and willing to help the old lady, and 
urged that it was time the young woman were en- 
gaged. Very many girls were married much 
younger than she, and for the grandmother to wait 
until the mother was ready to make a suitable 
match for her daughter was unwise. She was so 
bound up with the foreign religion that she would 
hardly give her daughter’s interest a thought. 

A suitable man having been recommended, the 
old lady, without letting Choh Lin’s mother know, 
began bargaining at once for the marriage of the 
young girl. News fortunately reached Mrs. Lee at 
Amoy in time, and she hastened to Tay Soa, and at 
once put a stop to the proposed engagement. 

Not lon«: after it was told the mother that old 
Mrs. Lee was again trying to marry the girl to 
another young man. This, too, was prevented, but 
Mrs. Lee felt that her mother-in-law was not en- 
tirely in the wrong. It was time that a husband 
were found for the daughter, and if the mother and 


240 


CHOH LIN 


brothers did not attend to it, the grandmother must. 
More than this, Mrs. Lee knew that as soon as the 
engagement was made the grandmother could do 
nothing more to prevent it. An engagement in 
China is almost as binding as marriage itself ; indeed, 
in some cases more so. A husband for not a very 
good reason may be divorced from his wife, but an 
engaged man must have a good cause for refusing 
to marry the woman to whom he is engaged. The 
woman has little choice or power in either case. 

Mrs. Lee determined to select a husband for her 
daughter, but she could not so easily decide on the 
man. She would not marry her to a heathen, nor 
did she wish an ordinary workingman, even though 
a Christian, if a better one could be obtained. 
Christian men of any kind were not plenty, and of 
those not married there were very few. Fortu- 
nately for her, young Mr. Jap was not only unmar- 
ried, but not even engaged. 

This was not so strange, as China has any quantity 
of young and old bachelors, though it is a rare thing 
to find a woman over twenty who has never been 
married or engaged. For this there are two rea- 
sons: many Chinamen have more than one wife, 
and there are not as many women as men in that 
country. While no doubt as many girls as boys are 
born, the cruel custom of killing many of the infant 
girls has not yet been abolished. 

Han Chiong was the man Mrs. Lee chose, but 
the questiou was not yet settled. Would he choose 


A NEW RELATIVE. 


241 


the same way ? Of course he could not call to see 
young Miss Lee, nor even see a photograph of her, 
but some one might tell him about her and learn 
his opinion. Like most men in China, Han Chiong 
wished a wife if able to pay for a good one. He 
was told that Miss Lee was a good and desirable 
young woman, and that her mother would not ex- 
pect much money in return. Gradually the bargain 
was made, and it was at last fully settled that Choli 
Lin and Han Chiong were to be brothers- in-law. 

None were more pleased with this than Choh Lin 
and Chi Lap, while old Mrs. Lee was as angry as 
the boys were pleased. Yet she could do nothing 
to prevent the engagement and marriage. Mothers 
have more authority than grandmothers over their 
own children, and the old lady could only grumble 
and show her displeasure by angry words and sour 
looks. 

Mrs. Lee was anxious to have the wedding take 
place as soon as possible, in order that she might 
induce her mother-in-law to move to the city. 
Business was so poor that she was unable to support 
two separate families from her scanty income, and 
she urged the grandmother to come to Amoy. Old 
Mrs. Lee refused. She was angry that her daugh- 
ter-in-law had led the whole family from the relig- 
ion of China, and was unwilling to do anything to 
please her ; but, more than this, she was afraid that 
by going to Amoy she would in some way come in 
contact with Christianity and be unable to resist its 

J6 


242 


CHOH LIN. 


power. The only way of safety was to remain 
away from Amoy and from Christian influence. 
While her hatred to Christianity did not lessen, her 
outspoken opposition to it greatly decreased. She 
could not help seeing that its influence on her 
daughter-in-law and grandchildren made them more 
kind to her ; yet the old feeling against them for 
deserting the religion of their fathers remained. 
After a time she acted as though willing that they 
should be Christians if she were allowed to retain 
her religion. Though Mrs. Lee failed to induce 
her mother-in-law to move to Amoy, another in- 
fluence brought about the desired result. 

There had been trouble for a long time between 
the people of Tay Soa and those of a few villages 
some distance away. For perhaps a hundred years 
this trouble had been handed down from father to 
son, sometimes quiet and slumbering, and again 
breaking out into active enmity, terminating in 
battles and bloodshed. About the time that Mrs. 
Lee effected the engagement of her daughter there 
were signs of this trouble being aroused again, and 
rumors reached Tay Soa of a purposed attack on it. 
The old lady now began to listen with more will- 
ingness to suggestions for her removing to Amoy. 
When it became quite probable that Tay Soa would 
be attacked she consented to go to the city. She 
had seen some of these fights, and dreaded seeing 
another. She even urged her daughter-in-law to 
hasten the arrangements for moving, and only felt 


A NEW RELATIVE. 


243 


content when she saw Tay Soa in the distance over 
the stern of the vessel that was taking her to Amoy. 
No one was more happy than Choh Lin to have 
his- grandmother and sister with him. Now, as the 
family were together, it seemed that he had all he 
could wish. 

But there came a break in this ceaseless flow of 
joy. The time for his sister’s wedding came all too 
soon for him, and far too soon to please the grand- 
mother. It greatly grieved old Mrs. Lee to see 
that the old heathen wedding-ceremonies were given 
up for the simple ones of the Christian Church. 
The missionaries, however, had not advised chang- 
ing the customs that had nothing to do with idol- 
atry and worship of the spirits, and the grand- 
mother consoled herself with the parts that were 
left, and hoped that some day the people would see 
the need of bringing back the rest. 

Young Mrs. Jap went at once to live with her 
husband, and Choh Lin found that he had two 
homes again. Between him and his brother-in-law 
there arose a friendship that increased with years, 
and that will last as long as the love of eternity 
endures. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


BECOMING A PREACHER. 

HOH LIN, having decided to continue his 



^ studies, gave himself little further thought 
about business. He had occasionally visited his 
old home, and now made another visit before begin- 
ning to study in earnest. Since he had become a 
student and dressed better and came from the large 
city, he was treated with more respect than when he 
lived at Tay Soa. People had heard of his success 
in his studies, and also of the business offers he had 
received. Old friends congratulated him on his 
splendid prospects. 

“ Five hundred dollars a month,” said an old 
man to him, “and then in a few years to be man- 
darin in Formosa ! What an offer ! You’ll be 
rich in two years — yes, rich in a month ! If I had 
five hundred dollars I would be rich now. How 
can it be possible?” 

“ Not five hundred dollars a month, Uncle Ton,” 
replied Choh Lin, laughing, “ but fifty.” 

“ Oh, I heard it was five hundred,” spoke the old 
man. “ No matter ; fifty dollars a month is a great 
sum of money. We think it a large sum here for 


244 


BECOMING A PREACHER. 


245 


a man to earn by a year of work. But then to be 
mandarin in Formosa! That is wonderful ! You 
will be able to gain many thousand dollars bv that 
office.” 

“ ‘ Mandarin of Formosa’?” said Choh Lin in 
surprise. “What do you mean?” 

“ Are you not to be a mandarin there in a few 
years?” asked the old man. “ Was not that prom- 
ised too?” 

“ ‘ Mandarin ’ ?” repeated Choh Lin ; then, as the 
truth came to him, he said, “ Oh, it was not to be 
mandarin, but to take charge of business there, that 
I received an offer.” 

“ Well, how did you get the offer?” inquired the 
old friend. 

“ Through the foreigners.” 

“ I knew you would not lose by attending the 
foreign schools and caring for the foreign religion. 
It was wrong to harm you and your mother for 
worshiping the foreign God. If people can make 
money by serving another god, why should they 
not do it? When you are rich, Choh Lin, don’t 
forget your old friends in Tay Soa.” 

“Perhaps I’ll never be rich,” was the young 
man’s reply. 

“ Never be rich on fifty dollars a month and at 
the head of business in Formosa ! Why will you 
not be rich?” 

“ Because I have declined the offer and do not 
mean to be a merchant.” 


246 


CHOH LIN. 


“ What ! not mean to be a merchant ?” cried the 
old man in surprise. “ What do you mean to be ?” 

“ I mean to study and become a preacher of the 
true religion.” 

“ What true religion ?” 

“ The religion of the one great and true God — 
the religion that the foreigners brought.” 

“ Do you mean to lose the chance to become a 
rich man in a year that you may tell people of a 
foreign religion ?” Then, thinking for a moment, 
he continued, “ Do the foreigners hire you to do 
it?” 

“ They want me to do it, and will pay me,” an- 
swered Choh Lin. 

“Oh, I see: they give more than the business- 
foreigner. How much do they give?” 

“Two dollars and a half a month while I am 
studying, and as soon as I am able to preach they 
will give me more, perhaps eight dollars.” 

“Two dollars and a half now, eight after a 
while !” spoke the old man — “ fifty dollars now, 
perhaps five hundred after a while! Does your 
foreign religion teach you such folly as that?” and, 
without saying any more, the old man turned away 
disgusted. He told the story to others and said 
that the foreign religion made people crazy. 

Choh Lin’s real friends in Tay Soa urged him 
not to give up his good chance in business, and 
warned him against preaching the new religion. 
They said it would bring him trouble and death, 


BECOMING A PREACHER . 


247 


and would probably bring calamity on his native 
village. Others ridiculed, and were ready even to 
persecute, him. But the few who had become inter- 
ested in the gospel said nothing. 

Choh Lin soon returned to Amoy. The warn- 
ings of friends, the ridicule of enemies, were hard 
to bear, but it was far worse to listen to the coaxing 
and threats of the old grandmother. 

The theological seminary in which Choh Lin 
studied was very different from our ideas of such 
a school. It was one small, dark room, with a few 
benches and desks. There was no library, but the 
one great and best Book was there. There were, 
however, a few books and an old map or two from 
America. 

Besides Choh Lin, there were four or five other 
young men studying for the ministry or to be teach- 
ers, and two or three older ones who spent some 
time in the city studying, but were most of their 
time in the country preaching. 

The professors were a Chinese teacher and two 
or three young missionaries. These latter, though 
learned men, were not well enough acquainted with 
the language of the people to be able to give young 
Chinamen the best of training for the ministry. 

It was a humble seminary in which Choh Lin 
prepared for the ministry, but that humble school 
has grown, until now it can be fairly dignified by 
the name of a theological seminary. The work it 
has already done is having an effect on the city and 


248 


CHOH LIN. 


the country around Amoy, but that work has only 
begun. Long after Choh Lin and those men who 
were its first professors shall have joined the com- 
pany of the blessed the theological seminary at Amoy 
will reach the greatness of its power. Then the 
work of those modest young missionaries will be 
shown to be the truest and wisest statesmanship 
with which foreigners have blessed China. 

Choh Lin’s whole heart was in his studies : he 
hardly took time to rest, and the result of over- 
study was soon seen. He grew thin and a trouble- 
some cough appeared. Still, he kept at work. 
Though the missionaries warned him to study less 
and take more exercise, he kept at his close appli- 
cation. After a while there came alarming symp- 
toms : there were slight hemorrhages, as it was sup- 
posed, of the lungs. Choh Lin was now alarmed, 
and listened to the advice of his teachers and took 
more rest. But the cough continued, and it seemed 
that consumption would soon take the young man’s 
life. 

A foreign physician ordered him to give up study 
altogether and leave the city. He advised Choh 
Lin, instead of going away to another country, to 
go with the fishing-boats sailing from Amoy out 
on the ocean and become a fisherman. This was a 
strange prescription, but the doctor saw that the 
young man needed air, exercise and something to 
keep him from study. 

It was a severe trial to Choh Lin, but as the mis- 


BECOMING A PREACHER. 


249 


sionaries said he must obey the physician’s order, 
and his mother and brother agreed to it, he became 
a fisherman. It was a hard life, to be tossed on the 
waters in a little vessel, to live with rough men on 
poor food, to sleep in a dirty, wet boat, and, worse 
than all, to be obliged to work hard and to risk the 
dangers of the ocean. Many times he wished him- 
self ashore in the seminary or in his own home. 
Many times, too, he wished that he had listened to 
the missionaries and not studied so hard. He be- 
lieved more than ever that the missionaries were 
wise men. He determined to follow their advice 
in future. But it proved hard advice before long. 

The change of air and ways of living, as well as 
the constant exercise, soon proved the wisdom of 
the physician’s advice. The cough lessened, his 
appetite returned and he grew stout and rugged. 
As soon as he felt better he went to the missionaries 
on his return from one of the fishing- voyages and 
asked to be taken back to the school. It was a 
trial to be told that he had not yet grown strong 
enough, and that he must go back to the fishing- 
boat. He obeyed, though far from willingly. 
These fishing-trips became more and more unpleas- 
ant to him, and he could not understand why he 
must continue them, for to himself he seemed well. 
Not until he had been a fisherman for a whole year 
did the physician say that he might return to his 
studies, and not until that permission was given did 
the missionaries welcome him back to the seminary. 


250 


CHOH LIN 


It was a long and tedious year for Choh Lin 
among the fishermen. Perhaps he thought then of 
the business opportunities he had refused ; perhaps 
he longed to be in business, instead of being a stu- 
dent and again losing his health. If he did have 
such longings, he kept them secret. But some of 
his friends, especially those at Tay Soa, thought 
that he would have been wiser had he gone into 
business instead of wasting his strength in study. 
His grandmother said that he was sick because he 
had deserted the religion of his fathers, and that 
the gods had sent the illness as a punishment. She 
further said that the gods would take his life if he 
continued to serve the foreign God. When he came 
back restored and strong, old Mrs. Lee felt sure that 
she was right, for as soon as her grandson gave up 
study and left the missionaries he became better. 
She begged her daughter-in-law not to let him go 
back to school to die. 

Rugged, healthy and happy, the young man went 
back to the seminary more satisfied than ever that 
the foreigners were wiser than his own countrymen. 
Probably not a Chinaman would have told him to 
go to fishing for his health, but the foreign doctor 
had ; obeying, he was now well. Great are the for- 
eigners! thought Choh Lin. 

But higher thoughts were in his heart. In all 
he believed that God had been present, and that 
divine mercy had spared and restored him to health. 
Yes, even though a foreigner had advised his going 


BECOMING A PREACHER. 


251 


with the fishermen, it was God who had brought 
that foreigner to China. God had sent the mission- 
aries there to teach him and his countrymen the 
way to Christ. This was the greatest of mercies, 
and Choh Lin determined to prove his gratitude by 
giving himself more entirely to the service of God. 

He began his studies with new zeal, but with 
more wisdom. He took more rest, and found him- 
self better able than before to study. But a new 
way of resting from study was ordered by the mis- 
sionaries. The students were sent off occasionally 
to the mission-stations to preach on the Sabbath. In 
this way they had variety in their work, as well as 
an opportunity to use the knowledge they had 
gained. They also learned how to preach by prac- 
ticing preaching; they saw, too, something of the 
work they would soon be set apart to do. 

Choh Lin was happy, yet full of fear, when told 
to go off to one of the mission- stations on Saturday 
and aid the helper there to preach on the next day. 
It is true he had addressed small meetings, but he 
had not preached to a regular Sabbath audience. 
He had often thought and studied what to say when 
he did preach. He had longed for the time when 
he might preach, and now, before he had expected, 
it had come. He started for the station with some 
fear, and yet with a little pride too. He had been 
praised often, and it would have been strange had 
he believed that all who praised him had told false- 
hoods. Though not without pride, he felt that he 


252 


CHOH LIN 


was to speak the Lord’s words. He prayed that 
the right words might be chosen and so presented 
that the people could not but hear and believe. 
Perhaps there was a feeling of expectation that the 
people would listen with wonder at the eloquence 
of the speaker, and then would be so impressed by 
what he said that they would be unable to turn 
away from the truth. If he expected to see his 
hearers weep as they listened and then cry, “ What 
must we do to be saved ?” he would not have been 
very unlike some other young preachers. 

When he began to preach the audience looked at 
the young speaker with no little interest. His fine 
form, pleasing manner and pleasant voice, as well 
as his youth, held their attention for a while, nor 
were they without interest in the words he spoke. 
But after a time some faces turned from him, and 
here and there a man was looking at his neighbors, 
talking to the one next to him, looking up to the 
ceiling, turning over the leaves of the hymn-book, 
and one or two were asleep. The conduct was much 
like that of a congregation in an American church, 
only in our country it would be a Christian audience ; 
Choh Lin’s was mostly heathen. It would have been 
very discouraging to the young preacher had there 
not been some who listened attentively to the whole 
sermon. At its close the young man felt not a little 
discouraged to find that his words had seemingly 
had little effect. He did not think that they were 
as seeds in new ground — that his hearers were hea- 



The Chinese Preacher 


Page 253 


































. 








BECOMING A PREACHER. 


253 


then men with hearts little prepared for the truth. 
He expected to reap a harvest at once from the seed 
sown. 

Though disappointed, the young preacher was 
learning a lesson of faith ; he was also learning that 
it is not by might nor by power, but by the Lord’s 
Spirit, that souls are converted. He was disap- 
pointed, but not discouraged ; he only determined 
the more to continue preaching: 

In these preaching-excursions he did not think 
that all his work was done when from the pulpit he 
told the people of a Saviour. Before and after ser- 
vice, sitting in the little chapel with only one or two 
hearers, he often preached more effective sermons 
than from the pulpit itself. One and another lis- 
tened attentively as he told the old story, though 
new to them, of a Saviour’s love. Some were 
deeply interested, and asked many questions and 
seemed anxious to learn more. But others, as soon 
as he told them to give up the worship of the spirits 
of the dead and their own evil ways, did not care 
to hear anything more about this new religion. 

Many times was he asked, “ What are you telling 
these things for?” “How much do the foreigners 
give you for teaching their religion ?” “ What will 
they give me to become a follower of their gods?” 
More than one offered to become Christians if Choh 
Lin would ensure them positions, a chance to make 
money. But the people could not understand why 
foreigners should teach their religion to others, and 


254 


OH OH LTN. 


even pay men to do it, when there seemed no way 
of making money by it. They would not believe 
that it was done from love to Christ and anxiety 
for souls. Many believed that there was some de- 
ception hidden, and that preaching the gospel was 
only another foreign way of getting money from 
the Chinese. In vain Choh Lin tried to explain ; 
people would not believe. They knew that they 
would not do such things for nothing ; they knew, 
too, that other foreigners were always trying to 
make money, and so believed that missionaries had 
some selfish purpose. Many, therefore, listened in 
great doubt to the young preacher. 

“ Ah, yes,” said one, “ you may be in earnest — so 
you must be, or the foreigners would discharge you 
— but you are yet young and the foreigners have not 
let you see what they mean to do. Have any of 
our mandarins or great men become worshipers of 
the foreign God ? They know more than we, and 
see that it is not wise to desert the religion of our 
country. When they listen and follow this new 
religion, then we will think about it.” 

These and many other objections might have dis- 
couraged the young preacher had there not been 
another side to the work. His own heart was full 
of joy as he told men of a Saviour. He knew that 
he was doing the work the Lord intended him to 
do. Then, too, there were some who not only lis- 
tened, but asked to know more. They came each 
time he preached. They showed that they believed 


BECOMING A PREACHER. 


255 


what he said, and wished to find a better God than 
they knew in their country. 

Gradually did Choh Lin engage more and more 
in preaching. Sometimes, when the regular preach- 
ers were ill or obliged to go away on preaching- 
tours, the students were sent to take their places, and 
sometimes they stayed a week or two at these sta- 
tions. During the summer season most of the time 
of the students was spent in the country at these 
stations. On their return from their work each 
young man had learned something and had some- 
thing to ask the teachers. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


CHI LAP AND THE GRANDMOTHER BECOME 
CHRISTIANS. 

T HOUGH Chi Lap had for a long time attended 
chapel-service and was often in the inquiry- 
room, yet he had not confessed Christ publicly when 
his grandmother came to Amoy. He was a praying 
young man and tried to live right, but he had not 
given himself to Christ. He feared that he might 
suffer by becoming a Christian, and he waited. 

Shortly after his sister and grandmother came to 
Amoy urgent business called Chi Lap to his native 
village. He had heard that the enemies of Tay Soa 
had sent soldiers down to watch the village, and 
knew that it would be difficult to pass these men in 
safety ; yet he resolved to try it. Instead of taking 
the regular route, he landed some distance below the 
place, determining to walk the rest of the way and 
enter the village from an unusual direction. 

When he approached the town he saw, to his sur- 
prise and terror, that it was surrounded by the en- 
emy, who seemed to be besieging the place. Not 
having yet been noticed by the soldiers, he stopped 
and hid while he thought what was best to be done. 
256 


CHI LAP AND THE GRANDMOTHER. 257 

His business was urgent; he must try to enter Tay 
Soa, yet to do so might make him a prisoner of the 
besieging army. If known to belong to the Lee 
family, he would be held until a price was paid by 
his friends for his ransom. 

Chi Lap was proud and not lacking in courage. 
He wanted to be known as a man who did his duty ; 
so he was unwilling to turn back. He said to him- 
self, “ This business must be attended to ; it is my 
duty to go ahead and do it, yet I shall probably be 
captured, for I cannot pass the soldiers without 
being seen. But if I go back people will call me 
a coward ; they will say I cannot be trusted with 
business, and it may cause me to lose my place. 
There is one thing I can do, and that is pray to the 
foreign God. The foreign teachers say that he can 
do great things ; mother and Choh Lin say so, too, 
and I partly believe it. Why should not I ask him 
to help me now? If he is so great and so willing 
to hear prayer, why will he not help me and keep 
those soldiers from harming me? I will try him, 
and if he does hear and save me I will after that 
become his servant.” 

Chi Lap knelt down and prayed in a low voice 
that he might be saved from the enemies of Tay 
Soa and be brought back in safety to Amoy. How 
well he prayed none can now say. 

When he arose from his knees it was with a de- 
termination to trust to the foreign God and go for- 
ward. Steadily, but with anxious heart, he walked 
17 


258 


CHOH LIN. 


toward the village and the soldiers. Without say- 
ing a word, he passed the line, expecting every mo- 
ment to be stopped and taken prisoner. The men 
looked at him as he came up, talked about him — at 
least so Chi Lap supposed — but said not a word to 
him, and quietly allowed the young man to pass by 
into the village. Not until he reached it and saw 
that he was not yet in the hands of the enemy did 
lie breathe freely. When he found himself com- 
paratively safe he could hardly help kneeling down 
to thank God for hearing his prayer. 

His friends praised his bravery, saying that he 
would become a great general, since he dared, alone 
and unarmed, to walk up to and pass an army of 
hostile soldiers. Chi Lap thought that if they 
could have heard his heart beat and known his feel- 
ings when he passed the enemy his friends would 
not call him brave. Yet he was really courageous. 
True bravery is not absence of fear, but going for- 
ward in the way of duty in spite of fear. 

Chi Lap said nothing to the people of Tay Soa 
about his prayer, nor yet of his determination to 
become a Christian. He knew how his mother and 
brother had been persecuted by them for worshiping 
the God of the foreigners, and he had no wish to 
endure their persecution. He was brave enough to 
face the enemy, but not brave enough to confess 
Christ to his friends. He had prayed to be pro- 
tected from the one, but had not asked God for 
help to meet the other. 


CHI LAP AND THE GRANDMOTHER. 259 

He finished his business as soon as he could and 
took the first opportunity to go by boat to Amoy. 
The enemies did not keep as close a watch on the 
water as they did on the land, and it was possible for 
boats to come and go at night. When he reached 
Amoy he told his story, with no little gratitude to 
God for his care over him, and at once confessed 
that he meant to be a Christian. 

“ God heard my prayer,” said he ; “ why should 
I not serve him? He alone kept those soldiers 
from harming me. Because of his care I am free ; 
so I belong to him.” 

There was a marked change in Chi Lap after 
that. He soon joined the Church, and for years 
was an active and faithful member of it. When he 
had been for some time in Formosa, and had grown 
rich, then he was led into temptation and fell before 
it, as we have learned, yet, we trust, not in a final 
fall. 

To his dying day Chi Lap could give no other 
explanation of his escape from the soldiers than 
that God heard his prayer and took care of him ; 
nor can the author give any other. The God who 
shut the lions’ mouths so that they should not hurt 
Daniel could control the soldiers so that they let 
the young man pass their lines. “ Call upon me in 
the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou 
shalt glorify me :” Chi Lap tried that promise and 
found it good. 

The object of the soldiers in besieging Tay Soa 


260 


CHOH LIN. 


was to frighten the people and force them to pay a 
price to be let alone, rather than to kill them. If 
the villagers could not be forced to do this, then the 
enemy would attack the village and try to carry 
away prisoners, to be held until a price should be 
paid for their freedom. 

We leave Chi Lap now and turn to the grand- 
mother. When she came to Amoy it was with 
many a secret vow that she would not become a 
Christian. She determined not to have anything to 
do with Christians, and not to go to a chapel where 
the foreign religion was taught. She even resolved 
not to speak to a missionary, and, if possible, not 
to allow one of them to speak to or see her, lest in 
some way they should lead her to change her religion. 

“Why should I change ?” said she to herself. 
“ My religion is good enough for me, and it satis- 
fied my fathers. As they lived I will, and as they 
died so will I die.” 

Yet there came to her mind the sad questions, 
“Who will care for my spirit when I am gone? 
Who will feed and clothe it? Who will care for 
the spirits of my dead ancestors? What shall I 
say when I meet them in the spirit-world, and they 
ask me why they are neglected ? Can I tell my son 
that his children and his wife left the religion of 
the Middle Kingdom for that of foreigners? Must 
I say that this happened while I was living?” 

Such sad thoughts made old Mrs. Lee determined 
to try to win back her grandchildren to idolatry, 


CHI LAP AND THE GRANDMOTHER. 261 

and made her more willing to go to Amoy, where 
she might influence them. 

At Amoy she was a stranger. Being in a Chris- 
tian home, there was little opportunity for her to 
become acquainted with heathen women, but she 
often met Christian people. As Christian women 
were few, they were the more in each other’s com- 
pany. Knowing the feelings of the elder Mrs. Lee 
toward the gospel, these said very little to her about 
it, but they spared no pains to make her feel con- 
tented in her new home. Before long, in spite of 
her determination to have nothing to do with Chris- 
tians, the old lady learned to like her new friends. 
She was specially pleased that they said so little 
against the religion of China and seemed willing 
that she should worship as she chose. 

Some time after leaving Tay Soa she became ill. 
This illness increased until her recovery was doubt- 
ful. Christian women came in to see and care for 
her. They treated her as if she were a mother. 
Any delicacy that might tempt the appetite was 
brought in and she was coaxed to eat it. Day and 
night kind friends watched by the old lady, doing 
all in their power for her comfort. They occasion- 
ally spoke to her about the true God, yet were kind 
and gentle in telling her of a Saviour, saying little 
to offend. They constantly prayed for her salva- 
tion, though usually when she did not hear. The 
younger Mrs. Lee, however, could not hide her anx- 
iety for her mother-in-law, nor could she help at 


262 


CHOH LIN 


times praying by the old lady’s bedside. But it 
was so gently done that old Mrs. Lee was not at 
all offended. Indeed, the continued kindness of all 
made her lose her hatred of Christianity, and she 
was willing that they should pray for her recovery. 

To her it was a mystery why these people should 
care so much for a stranger, an old woman, and 
poor too. When she asked they answered that 
this was their duty as taught by the Christian re- 
ligion ; they did it because they were trying to obey 
God. No explanation, however, would at first sat- 
isfy old Mrs. Lee, and again and again she asked 
her daughter-in-law, “ Why do they do these things? 
Why are they so kind ? I can never pay them ; I 
have no money. I am no relative of theirs, not 
even an acquaintance from whom they may some 
day expect a reward. I am only a poor old woman 
who must soon go to the spirit-world, and can in no 
way return their favors here. True, I may in the 
spirit- world, and gladly will I do all I can there for 
such kind friends. Yet it is strange why they are 
so good to me.” 

Once, when the younger Mrs. Lee said that all 
was done from love to Christ, the old lady replied, 
“ That may all be, but people in the Middle King- 
dom do not love the gods so much as that. They 
love and serve the gods to receive something, but 
what does the foreign God care for me ? I don’t 
pray to him ; I never serve him. What good will 
he do them for their care of me?” 


CHI LAP AND THE GRANDMOTHER. 263 


Bein g told that the God of the foreigners cared 
for all, and even loved those who did not serve him, 
the old lady was surprised, though she had no doubt 
heard the same truth before, and said, “ What ! care 
for and even love those who are not his friends, who 
never worship him? That cannot be; gods never 
do that.” 

Slowly this idea entered her mind and filled her 
with wonder at the difference between the God of 
the foreigners and the gods of the Chinese. She 
was scarcely less surprised to notice, sick as she was, 
that the women who watched by her occasionally 
kneeled beside the bed when they thought her asleep 
and in a low voice prayed for her recovery. “ Why 
should they pray that I may get well ?” she asked 
herself. “ Why do they wish me to live? If I do 
not die, some one else must. Death will have his 
full share; if not the old, then he takes the young; 
and if I am spared some of their own relatives, or 
even themselves, may be taken.” 

She did not die. After a while she began to im- 
prove, and slowly recovered her health. When 
able to talk more she was ready to converse with 
Christians about their religion. She was glad to 
talk with Choh Lin and his brother, and seemed to 
have lost all wish to win them back to idolatry. 

One day Choh Lin said to her, “ Grandmother, 
you often asked why our friends were so kind to 
you, a stranger. I’ll tell you : it was because God 
has changed their hearts.” 


264 


CHOH LIN. 


“Why did he change their hearts?” she asked. 
“Do those whose hearts are changed ever speak evil 
words or have evil thoughts ?” 

“Yes, grandmother,” answered he ; “sometimes 
they do, but it is because they do not ask God 
to keep them from evil or do not trust enough in 
him. They are like plants that droop when they 
have no water. Christ is the Christian’s water of 
life.” 

“ Don’t they hate their enemies any more ?” she 
asked. 

“ No. The Lord says we must love our enemies, 
bless them that curse us and do good to them that 
use us badly.” 

“ Is that too in your religion ? It is not in ours. 
We hate those who hate us ; yes, and keep hating 
even after we go to the spirit- world,” she added in 
a lower voice. After they had talked for a while 
she continued : “ Our religion is to do to others as 
they do to us ; the foreign religion is to do to them 
as we wish they would do to us.” Then she mur- 
mured, “ Yes, it is a good religion. It is good to 
the sick and to the stranger ; it has been good to 
me.” Oholi Lin thought her asleep, but she was 
thinking aloud. 

As she grew better she was the more ready to lis- 
ten while others talked about the Saviour. She 
often asked questions and became more and more 
interested. She was glad to have others pray with 
and for her, yet for some time seemed unwilling to 


CHI LAP AND THE O BAND MOTHER. 265 


ask them to do so. One day she said to those at- 
tending her, “ That is a good doctrine about loving 
those who do not love you. If more obeyed it this 
world would be much more happy than it is now. 
Who first taught it ?” 

“ God himself,” was the reply. 

“ It must have been a God who could think of 
such things ; men think only of getting, not of giv- 
ing — of rewarding evil for evil, and sometimes evil 
for good, rather than good for evil. None but a 
God could have given such a religion to man, and 
I want to know about that God.” This was said 
as if at last she had broken through a great barrier 
that restrained her. She then continued : “ That 
God has been very good to me. When I came here, 
a stranger, he sent you to care for me ; you, who are 
his people, did more for the old stranger than sisters 
would do. None of those who worship the gods of 
the Middle Kingdom have cared for me. The gods 
I have served for so many years have deserted me, 
while the God of foreigners has cared for me. Yes, 
he has heard the prayers of his people, and has saved 
my life and is restoring me to health. He is the 
God whom I will serve.” 

From this time old Mrs. Lee was a changed 
woman. She no longer hesitated to ask the way to 
the Saviour. 

None were more glad than were Choh Lin and 
his mother to welcome the old lady among those 
who worshiped the true God. Mrs. Lee felt now 


266 


CHOH LIN. 


that her joy was nearly full. Her three children 
were Christians, her favorite son was studying for 
the ministry, and now the old mother-in-law was 
seeking Christ. Patiently had Mrs. Lee borne un- 
kind treatment and bitter words; earnestly, con- 
stantly and hopefully had she prayed for her mother- 
in-law’s conversion ; now her patience was rewarded, 
her prayers were answered. All through those years 
the younger Mrs. Lee had believed that her prayers 
would be answered, yet the delay had been a great 
trial to her faith. Now that faith obtained its re- 
ward, she felt that she could not be thankful 
enough. Many times did she, with tears of joy, 
tell how good the Lord had been to her, and urge 
others to trust him more. 

When old Mrs. Lee was able to go out, the first 
place she wished to visit was the chapel, where from 
the preacher she might hear the gospel. She took 
delight in worshiping with God’s people and telling 
in the inquiry-meeting what the Lord had done for 
her. “ I want to be with the people of the God 
who did so much for me when I did not love him,” 
said she to the missionary. “ I want to be with 
them, not for what I can get, but for what I want 
to give them. They are always doing me good, 
while I can do nothing in return. I am only a 
beggar, yet it is not hard to beg from loving brothers 
and sisters who only wish to know what I need. 
Best of all is it to receive such goodness from a God 
who is willing to call a poor worthless old woman 


CHI LAP AND THE GRANDMOTHER. 267 


like me daughter. It is a good religion ; it is the 
one I need.” 

Gradually the old lady learned the true way. 
She was old, her mind worked slowly ; it was diffi- 
cult for her to unlearn many things that for a life- 
time she had been learning, and more difficult still 
to overcome the evil habits of a lifetime. But she 
gained, and the change in her became great. After 
instructing her for some time the missionaries bap- 
tized and received her into the Church. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

CHOH LIN MARRIED AND A PREACHER. 

I T must not be supposed that because this is a 
true story it is to have in it nothing of love and 
marriage. Love is a part of life, therefore writers 
who wish to make their fictitious stories real tell of 
love. But too often their tales seem as if love 
were the only thing worth telling about in this 
world. God made us to love and be loved in this 
world, but that is not the only object of life. Those 
who make it such make their lives failures as far as 
others are concerned, and often failures as far as 
their own happiness is concerned. Those who live 
for doing good will be more loved and happier than 
those who think only of loving and being loved. 

The Chinese believe that children should love 
their parents and parents their children, and admit 
that husbands and wives should love each other ; 
yet they do not believe it wise or well for young 
people of opposite sexes to love each other at all 
until engaged. With them engagement for mar- 
riage comes first — love afterward, if at all. People 
in China, as a rule, do not marry because they love, 
268 


MARRIED AND A PREACHER . 


269 


but because it is the custom and because they wish 
homes and families of their own. 

In America it is the custom for each man to carry 
a watch. He who can gets a gold one, but many 
must content themselves with one of silver, while a 
few own nothing but a nickel watch, and some are 
too poor to own a watch at all. It is somewhat so 
in China with marrying. Men get wives if they 
can, and the best they can afford, but some are too 
poor to own a wife, while some own several. Men 
are not so anxious there to marry rich wives, be- 
cause a daughter does not usually take with her a 
share of her father’s wealth beyond the presents 
given at the wedding. After marriage a woman 
loses most of her claim on her father’s family. She 
belongs to her husband and to his family, and is 
even treated at times by her own relatives as if 
dead. 

Men do not always make their own choice; on 
the contrary, the parents or friends of young men 
and boys frequently choose the wife and complete 
the engagement. This is often done without con- 
sulting the one most interested. Some day the 
young man is told that he is engaged to be married 
to a young lady whom he may never have met. He 
usually takes it as a matter of course. The young 
lady is rarely consulted. She is engaged, or sold, to 
a stranger, often with little more regard to her feel- 
ings than if she were a horse or a cow. 

The time for engagements varies, some being 


270 


CHOH LIN. 


promised in marriage only a short time before the 
wedding, and others are engaged in their youth. It 
is not an unusual thing for parents to engage their 
infants, and these engagements last. 

Marriages in China, it can readily be seen, are 
not always happy; too often they are wretched. 

When Choh Lin was fifteen years of age, and 
before he had decided to become a preacher, the 
older brother of a young girl in the city visited 
Mrs. Lee and tried to make arrangements with her 
for the engagement of Choh Lin to his sister. The 
girl was intelligent, rather pretty, of good dispo- 
sition and of a family fully equal to that of Choh 
Lin, and, moreover, was a professed Christian. 
Mrs. Lee knew that she would be likely to make 
a suitable wife for her son. The fact that she had 
been brought up as a Christian made her the more 
acceptable to Mrs. Lee. Besides, Choh Lin was now 
approaching manhood, and it was fully time that 
a wife should be chosen for him. But his mother 
was unable to pay for a wife for her son, so she 
frankly told the man that she could not afford to 
give what would be expected as engagement-money. 

“ We do not want any money now,” was the an- 
swer. “ You will be able when your sons are earn- 
ing more to pay, and we will wait. We want a 
good husband for our sister.” 

But Mrs. Lee, while satisfied with the girl, was 
unwilling to bind herself to pay, so the engagement 
was not made. 


MARRIED AND A PREACHER. 


271 


Shortly after this a near relative of another girl 
in the city called on Mrs. Lee, and broached the 
subject of the marriage of Mrs. Lee’s son. 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Lee, “ Chi Lap is old enough, 
and should have a wife, but he is so busy now that 
he cannot take time to select a wife. Besides, he is 
rapidly rising in business and will some day be a 
rich man ; then he can afford to get a much better 
wife than now.” 

u ‘ Rising in business’?” spoke the visitor in sur- 
prise. “ Has he left school ? Why did he stop ?” 

“ He has not been at school for some years,” re- 
plied the mother. 

“ Oh, I was speaking of your younger son,” said 
the woman. “ He has had no wife chosen for him 
yet, has he ?” 

“ No, he is quite young and there is no hurry,” 
answered Mrs. Lee. “It will be time enough to 
select a wife when he has decided on the business 
he is to follow; besides, I do not wish to see him 
married before his older brother.” 

“ One need not interfere with the other,” replied 
the woman. “ There are enough beautiful and cul- 
tivated girls for both, and many families who would 
be glad to marry their daughters to your sons.” 

After flattering Mrs. Lee for a while the woman 
proposed that Choh Lin be engaged to her relative. 

“ I am too poor now,” replied Mrs. Lee, “ to 
make arrangements for the marriage of my younger 
sou. He must wait until we are richer.” 


272 


L'HOH LIN. 


“ We do not ask much money,” said the woman ; 
“ if you will only promise your son, a small amount 
of money will be enough to satisfy us for losing our 
relative.” 

Mrs. Lee nevertheless refused to make the en- 
gagement until better able to pay the amount usu- 
ally expected, and the woman left disappointed. 

Choh Lin was a bright youth, a good student and 
gave promise of being a learned and noted man ; so 
he was regarded as a desirable husband. Such a 
young man could not fail to have offers of a wife, 
and even have them repeated. In a year or two 
the man who first offered his sister to Mrs. Lee as 
a wife for her younger son called a^ain and urged 
the suit for his sister. Believing that Choh Lin 
would bring no little honor to his wife and to her 
family, the brother of the young lady made unusual 
offers. 

At the engagement a price is fixed for the bride, 
part of it to be paid then and the rest at the wed- 
ding. This price varies according to the wealth, 
beauty, rank, intelligence and many other qualifica- 
tions of the bride. It may vary, too, if more than 
one man wishes the same maiden. Her relatives 
can then demand a high rate, since the demand is 
more than the supply. 

The brother and mother of the young lady were 
so anxious to get Choh Lin that they offered her to 
Mrs. Lee for thirty dollars — a very low price for 
such a desirable wife — and further agreed to wait 


MARRIED AND A PREACHER. 


273 


for all the money until the wedding, and then, if 
Choh Lin were unable to pay all, they would take 
even less. 

The bargain was finally made, and Choh Lin, 
when about sixteen years old, was engaged to be 
married. The engagement, once made, could not 
be broken without incurring shame and disgrace. 
The fact that he was engaged to be married gave 
Choh Lin but little care. He did not call to see 
the young lady — that, in Chinese society, would 
have been regarded as very improper — nor did he 
write to her or receive messages from her. The 
two were almost strangers, and such they must 
remain until the wedding-day. He had, however, 
seen her as a little girl in school when he first came 
to Amoy. If he gave the subject much thought, it 
was that of satisfaction that there was one less care 
for him now : a wife had been chosen, and it only 
remained to fix the wedding-day, and, when that 
arrived, be married. It was not a matter of love 
at all, but of business, and he was told that the 
business had been well done, a good bargain made ; 
why should he worry himself? 

When he was twenty years old the wedding-day 
came. It was a day of festivity and gladness to 
Choh Lin and to his fellow-students, but less a time 
of festivity to the bride. 

Since her engagement her mother and brother 
had died, and she was left to the care of more dis- 
tant relatives. While her friends took charge of 
18 


274 


CHOH IJN. 


the preparations the absence of these two destroyed 
much of the happiness of the young lady, yet it 
made her look forward with more hopeful anxiety 
to the time when, instead of mother and brother, 
she would have a husband to care for her. But 
what would the husband, what would the wife be? 
It need not be told how anxious each was to meet 
the other and see if all that had been told was true, 
and if either had changed since childhood. 

The bride, dressed in brilliant colors, was carried 
in a closed red sedan-chair to the home of Choh 
Lin. He, too, was dressed in his best, waiting to 
receive the wedding-procession. It was an anxious 
moment to the two when he stepped to the sedan as 
it was set down at his home. Then he opened the 
door of the chair and for the first time since child- 
hood looked on the face of his bride, and she on the 
face of her husband. 

As Mrs. Lee, her son and the bride were Chris- 
tians, the ceremony resembled a marriage-ceremony 
in America. After the wedding the young couple 
settled down quietly to married life. Owing to the 
death of her near relatives the bride did not bring 
the usual number of presents, and Choh Lin had 
less money to pay to her relatives for his wife. 
They accepted twenty-four dollars as a fair price, 
considering the circumstances. Of course the Chi- 
nese deny that the money is given to pay for a wife, 
yet admit that it is meant to make amends for the 
loss her relatives feel at her leaving them. 


MARRIED AND A PREACHER. 


275 


Choh Lin and his wife soon learned that neither 
was perfect, yet each found in the other a true and 
faithful companion, and before they had been mar- 
ried many months they had learned to love each 
other fondly. Some years after their marriage the 
author visited them in their home and saw that 
there can come true love to the hearts of those who 
are strangers on their wedding-day. But Choh 
Lin’s experience is not like that of many married 
people in China. Their lives are wretched; un- 
loved they live and unloved they die. A married 
life without love they find a miserable slavery. 

For some time before his marriage Choh Lin’s 
time had been largely given to preaching. At 
length the work became so urgent that the mission- 
aries were obliged to take the older students alto- 
gether from their studies and place them in charge 
of the different fields. He had been married only 
a short time when they told him one day that he 
must give up study in the seminary and move out 
into the country to take charge, with another 
preacher, of a large mission-field where the people 
seemed ready and anxious to hear the gospel. 

“ We would like you to remain here and study 
longer,” said they — “ you are yet too young to have 
so much work and responsibility placed on you — 
yet what else can we do ? The Lord has heard the 
prayer of the Church and has opened the field for 
us; now we must try to occupy it. We are few, 
but the Lord will be with us. It may be that after 


276 


CHOH UN 


a while you will be able to return and study, but 
now it seems the Lord’s will that you give all your 
time to preaching.” 

“ As you say, teachers, so will I do,” answered 
Choh Lin. “ I gave myself to the Lord for his 
work, and do not mean to keep part of myself back 
now, and thus be like Ananias and Sapphira. If 
you think I can do the work, send me. I am glad 
to do the Lord’s will, only I wish that I were 
better fitted for it.” 

Choh Lin went to the mission-field alone, leaving 
his wife in Amoy, intending as soon as he could 
make arrangements to move to the field and live 
there. He longed to stay at Amoy or near the city, 
where so many Christians were and where he had 
so many friends. To leave behind those whom he 
loved, to give up the associations and the comforts 
he had there, to live among heathen people, made 
the sacrifice no small one for the young man. But 
a greater trial was before him, and one that he 
dreaded more than any other. He must have 
charge in part of a mission. True, the older 
preacher would have the principal charge, but 
Choh Lin knew enough of the work to know that 
the older man would stay at the principal station 
and send him to preach and take charge of one or 
more of the smaller ones connected with it. How 
could he do this? How meet the opposition of 
idolaters? How meet their shrewd schemes to 
drive him away? How keep the Christians and 


MARRIED AND A PREACHER. 


277 


the inquirers from getting into trouble with the 
heathen? How hold his position and yet keep 
peace ? A single mistake on his part might destroy 
the effect of all that had been done and prevent for 
years the preaching of the gospel again in the place. 
Then, too, what would the people think of him? 
What heed would the heathen give to the words of 
such a youth ? 

A more serious trouble seemed before him. How 
should he be able to teach inquirers the way to 
Christ and to heaven? What if he make a mistake 
and direct them wrong? What if he lead men 
away from Christ? 

As these thoughts came to the mind of the young 
man he was almost ready to refuse to become a 
preacher. He thought and prayed over the matter, 
he read the Bible to learn more clearly his duty, but 
could see only one course, and that was to go for- 
ward and do the work to which the Lord had called 
him. He remembered Jonah ; he also remembered 
the Lord’s promise, “ My grace is sufficient for 
thee;” and he went forward. 

The new work was even more difficult than he 
supposed ; so the strength he received to do it was 
greater than he expected. With every trial he 
found new help given, yet it seemed to him as if 
the heathen made special efforts to trouble and per- 
plex him. While usually polite, they occasionally 
were unkind and insulting, telling him that he was 
taking foreigners’ money to betray his own people 


278 


CHOH LIN 


and their religion to a foreign people and a foreign 
God. In a quiet way and by shrewd means they 
sought to drive him away. They tried to frighten 
the man who had rented a house for a chapel, so 
that he should demand it back. They tried, by 
telling of a probable war against foreigners and all 
who held to their religion, to make Choh Lin afraid 
to preach. Bills were found posted along the streets 
warning people not to forsake their own for a for- 
eign religion, and telling of the danger of attending 
chapel-services. Now and then, during worship 
in the chapel, stones were thrown on the roof to 
frighten the worshipers. Those who came to hear 
the gospel were threatened if they continued to at- 
tend the chapel. Many were frightened away, and 
some who seemed really interested in the gospel 
stayed away for fear of persecution. 

Choh Lin was often sick at heart, and not with- 
out serious fears lest he might suffer violence, yet 
he kept faithfully at his work. He could now un- 
derstand the persecutions the apostles suffered. He 
could understand, too, what the Saviour meant when 
he said, “ Lo, I am with you alvvay, even unto the 
end.” The young preacher felt that presence. In 
his darkest hours he could look upward and see 
light there; in his weakest moments he felt a strong 
arm supporting him. 

His work was not without results. In spite of 
threats, some did come to the chapel ; they listened 
too, and more, they believed the truth he taught. 


MARRIED AND A PREACHER. 


279 


One and another stayed after the sermon to talk 
with the preacher about “the doctrine.” Gradually 
light came to their souls, and one by one they gave 
themselves to Christ. Only those who have led souls 
to Jesus can understand the joy of Choh Lin as 
these told him that they had found the Saviour. 
His voice and theirs united in many a song of 
thanksgiving over what the Lord had done for 
their souls. 

For a long time Choh Lin did not think it best 
to bring his wife to the place where duty called 
him. Those were happy times when he was able 
for a few days to leave his station and go to Amoy 
to his home and to Christian friends. He soon 
learned the value of his good wife’s sympathizing 
words and cheerful counsels, but more still did he 
prize the helpful words and helpful advice of the 
missionaries. He said they seemed to lift his faith 
above the clouds and showed him the sun always 
shining there. From these visits the young preach- 
er returned with stronger heart and more earnest zeal. 

It was not the purpose of the missionaries to keep 
the young men steadily in the same place, but to 
change them about, that they might not be com- 
pelled to study so hard in preparing their sermons, 
and also to give them a chance to work under the 
care of different leaders among the older preachers. 
Then, as soon as a young man proved himself fitted 
for a larger and more important field, the mission- 
aries speedily promoted him. 


280 


CHOH LIN. 


Thus, Choh Lin was changed about from one 
station to another, though most of the time at a 
distance from Amoy. After a few years he was 
promoted to be at the head of a principal station, 
where he remained in charge for some time, and 
then was placed over one of the most important of 
all the stations connected with the mission. But of 
this more will be told in a later chapter. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


THE GOSPEL AT T AY SO A. 

W HEN the missionaries inquired of Mrs. Lee 
about the village in which she had lived, she 
told them that none except herself had heard a mis- 
sionary preach, but that she had spoken to some 
about the foreign God, and added, “ Few care to 
hear about him ; the most say that I must not speak 
in the village of any but the gods of the Middle 
Kingdom.” 

“ Do you obey ?” was asked. 

“ No,” was her reply, “ but I say nothing to those 
who are angry, for fear it will only make them hate 
the doctrine the more. There are some who are 
willing to listen, and one or two who want to know 
more. I wish that the foreign teachers could visit 
Tay Soa and tell the people of the doctrine. You 
could make it so plain that they would see it to be 
good.” 

More than once Mrs. Lee invited and even urged 
the missionaries to go to Tay Soa to preach the gos- 
pel to the people. As their number was so small 
and their work in the city as well as outside of it 
so great, it was some time before they were able to 

281 


282 


CHOH LIN 


visit the village. Meanwhile, Mrs. Lee’s talks, and 
still more her life, were having an effect on some 
of the people. The change in her had been great 
— too great to pass unnoticed by a watchful and 
gossiping people. They had not forgotten her 
search for the life-giving God, and saw from her 
manner and her life that she believed she had 
found this God. There was a marked change that 
they could not help noticing. She had no longer 
unkind and harsh things to say of her enemies. 
She said little about them, and that little was rather 
tinged with sadness than hate. 

“ Yes, they have wronged me,” said she one day 
to a friend, “ but I must bear it patiently. The 
great Upper Ruler (the Chinese Christian name for 
God) will make it all right sometime; he knows 
what is best.” 

“ What!” asked the friend in surprise, “do- you 
think it best for you to be robbed of all your prop- 
erty? I think it would have been best if the rob- 
bers were made to pay back and then go to prison. 
I do not see how it can be best for you to be made 
to work so hard for your living, when, had it not 
been for those robbers, you would have plenty, and 
to spare for your needy friends.” 

“ It will be for the best in the end,” replied Mrs. 
Lee quietly. “ Even now I see how it has proved 
for the best. Had I not been poor I would not 
have been in Amoy and would not have heard 
about the life-giving God.” 


THE GOSPEL AT T AY SO A. 


283 


“ But then you would not have needed him,” 
spoke the other. 

“ 1 Would not have needed him ’ ?” replied Mrs. 
Lee, looking up in surprise: “I always needed him, 
but did not know it. I was like a thirsty person 
who dreams of water, but awakens to know that he 
is dying from thirst. When I sought among the 
temples for the life-giving God, then in dreams I 
was feeling my thirst and seeking to quench it, but 
not until I heard in the chapel of the true God did 
I awaken to know that I was dying from thirst. 
Yes, there I awoke, and there too found the living 
Fountain of water. No, no, it is well. My pov- 
erty made me go to Amoy, and there I became rich. 
The good Upper Ruler allowed me to lose my earthly 
property that I might have a share in his eternal 
and heavenly riches. It was best.” 

Talks like these left an impression on her friends. 
They saw that Mrs. Lee was moved by a different 
spirit, and many were the remarks made about her 
by her neighbors. Nor were these all against her. 
The people saw that she was not affected by ridicule. 
Instead of persecution arousing her to anger and to 
replv in bitter words, it only seemed to make her 
more gentle and kind. True, there were times when 
her old nature, aroused beyond the power of the 
new and better one to control it, showed itself in 
angry words. This was not often, and was always 
followed by acts of kindness that really perplexed 
the people of Tay Soa more than her general change 


284 


CHOH LIN. 


of conduct. Returning good for evil is not a Chi- 
nese custom. 

Mrs. Lee was not backward to speak about the 
true God to those who were ready to listen, and 
gladly visited and talked with those who showed 
any interest in the gospel. But she was obliged to 
be very careful, lest those opposed to the truth 
should persecute those to whom she talked. Some 
who would willingly have listened dared not speak 
to Mrs. Lee about Christianity, and hardly dared 
visit or speak to her at all, lest others should accuse 
them of wishing to become worshipers of the for- 
eign God. 

In spite of all opposition and persecution, some 
in Tay Soa became deeply interested in the gospel, 
and their interest continued, so that when one of 
the missionaries visited the village not long after 
Mrs. Lee moved to Amoy, there were others besides 
Mrs. Lee, who was at Tay Soa on a visit, glad to 
welcome him. Of course the people all gathered to 
see and listen to the foreigner. Many had never 
before seen one, and to them he was a great curi- 
osity. 

The missionary’s visit made no little talk in Tay 
Soa. His dress, his appearance, his way of speaking 
their language, were all discussed ; and when these 
subjects grew old the doctrine he taught formed an 
unending topic for discussion. Men talked of it on 
the street, women talked of it in their homes, hus- 
bands and wives talked of it in their families. Some 


THE GOSPEL AT TAY SO A. 


‘285 


were bitter against the missionary and the foreign 
religion, and some merely spoke of both as curios- 
ities, while a few showed that they were friendly to 
both missionary and doctrine. Nearly all of these 
were Mrs. Lee’s friends and persons with whom she 
had already talked of Christianity. Those who 
were friendly were careful, though, to say little in 
favor of the gospel in the presence of its enemies, 
and specially careful were they to say and do noth- 
ing that might arouse against themselves persecution 
such as Mrs. Lee had sutfered. 

When Mrs. Lee removed to Amoy, there had been 
no little discussion and bitter feeling. Some said 
that she had gone to be a servant and a spy for the 
foreigners, and others that the cruelty of the vil- 
lagers had driven her away. 

“ Some day the gods will visit Tay Soa with great 
calamities for what that woman has suffered,” said 
a man one day to several who were talking about 
Mrs. Lee’s leaving. “ The gods have led her away 
that they may punish the village the more severely.” 

“ We had nothing to do with her suffering,” re- 
plied another. “ It was her own relatives who did 
it. I am willing that the gods shall punish all of 
them : they deserve it.” 

“ Yes, but we did not hinder their robbing the 
widow,” persisted the other. “ We did nothing to 
help her, and we must suffer with the evil ones. 
Angry gods are sometimes blind. Yet we also had 
something to do with her suffering. Have we not 


286 


CHOH LIN. 


ridiculed her search for the life-giving God, and 
have we not even persecuted her since she believes 
that she has found him?” 

“ ‘ Persecuted her ’ !” spoke another excitedly. 
“She deserved it for deserting the worship of the 
Middle Kingdom for that of outside barbarians. 
No, no ; the gods have not led her away that they 
may punish, but that they may favor and bless, this 
village. Let her go; it will be a blessing to us.” 

“ Oh, she has not gone for any such reason,” said 
a man who had been quiet before. “ The gods did 
not send her away, nor has she gone away to wor- 
ship the foreign God. She is a wise woman. She 
sees that neither she nor her sons can make money 
here, but that, aided by the friendship of foreigners, 
they will earn money rapidly in Amoy ; so she goes 
there. Chi Lap is already earning money in the 
city ten times as rapidly as he could here; his 
mother and younger brother will soon be doing the 
same. Foreigners have ten thousand times as much 
money as Middle-Kingdom people, and Mrs. Lee is 
wise enough to take the right way to get it. She 
becomes a friend of foreigners and follows their re- 
ligion, but it is that she may win their favor, and 
so help her sons as well as herself to gain their 
money. I too would be willing to accept the for- 
eigners’ religion could I make a fortune by it; so 
would every one else.” 

This speech had a great effect for the time ; nor 
did this effect entirely die away. It made many 


THE GOSPEL AT TAY SO A. 


287 


think more favorably of Mrs. Lee and of foreigners 
too — also of their religion, or rather of their money. 

Another visit from the missionary followed the 
first. Though he was not so much of a curiosity 
as before, the interest in the doctrine was greater. 
Mrs. Lee’s talks were having their effect, and that 
effect had been increased rather than lessened by 
her leaving them. But, more still, the discussions 
about the Christian doctrine had aroused a great 
deal of interest, and many listened intently to the 
address of the missionary. There was in it little to 
anger the most determined idolater, but much to 
lead him to think. Little was said against the gods 
of China. They were given all the credit, and far 
more than they deserved, but their best qualities 
were contrasted with those of the true God. When 
the missionary spoke of Christ, he could find noth- 
ing in the religion of the Chinese with which to 
compare or contrast him. Jesus was presented as 
the God who knew men — knew their souls, under- 
stood their need, and came to supply that need, 
came to save men whom no spirits, no gods besides, 
could save. 

Greater and more earnest discussion followed this 
than the former visit of the missionary, but now it 
was the doctrine he taught rather than the man that 
was discussed. Some had asked many questions; 
these were regarded as the wise men now, and their 
opinions about Christianity were considered as worth 
a great deal. They were ready to give not only the 


288 


CHOH IAN. 


missionary’s words, but as ready to add to them 
what they supposed he would have said had he 
been asked certain questions. In this way the for- 
eign teacher was made to teach some things that he 
would never have thought of saying. Yet many 
truths remained in the minds of the people, and 
those truths were working, though slowly. 

Mrs. Lee’s weekly visits to Tay Soa helped on 
the effect of the truth. She visited the women and 
explained many things, so that by several of the 
women and a few of the men her visits were antici- 
pated with growing interest. After several visits 
of missionaries it became evident that there were a 
number of inquirers in the village. It seemed that 
a mission-station should be formed and a chapel 
opened at Tay Soa, and regular services held. 

When the missionaries tried to hire a house for a 
chapel their enemies began to make their opposition 
felt. They went to the man who intended to rent 
them the house and forbade his doing it. They made 
such threats that he dared not keep his part of the 
bargain. He sent word to Amoy that he could not 
rent his house to the missionaries, nor would an 
offer of a larger rent make him change his mind. 
He wanted the money, but he was afraid that if he 
got it he could not long keep it, if indeed he could 
keep his life. 

Foiled in their efforts to hire this man’s house, 
the missionaries were at a loss what to do. They 
were determined to open a chapel in Tay Soa, not 


THE GOSPEL AT TAY SO A. 


289 


only on account of the interest among the people, 
but to have a station there as a starting-place for 
the large and populous country beyond. 

“ I’ll tell you how to get a house for a chapel,” 
said Mrs. Lee. “ Let some Christian Chinaman go 
up there and rent a house for you. When the bar- 
gain is made and the owner gets his money regu- 
larly, he will not readily turn you out.” 

Acting on this advice, a house was rented and a 
chapel opened. As soon as the enemies of Chris- 
tianity learned how they had been defeated they 
were more opposed than ever to the gospel. They 
were not angry at being outwitted, but angry be- 
cause the missionaries had succeeded. Shrewdness 
in bargains rarely offends a Chinaman. Though 
unable to prevent the worship of the foreign God 
in their village, these men determined to make it as 
uncomfortable as possible for the worshipers. These 
were threatened with all manner of punishment, 
nor were threats alone applied. More than once 
was violence used, yet a wholesome fear of the mis- 
sionaries, who were known to have influence with 
the mandarins, prevented any great injury being 
done. 

Regular Sabbath services were now held by a 
native preacher; occasionally one of the mission- 
aries preached. Quite a large class of inquirers 
was formed. For the first time in the history of 
new stations in and around Amoy the majority of 
these inquirers were women. According to Chinese 

19 


290 


OH OH LIN. 


custom, none but elderly women are allowed to go 
out into the streets, nor is it deemed proper for even 
these to be much in gatherings of men. For them 
to hear the gospel is therefore nearly impossible, 
except as they hear it through fathers, brothers, 
husbands or sons. It is no unusual thing for a 
church to be organized and continued for several 
years with men only as members. Work by women 
among the women is bringing about a change in 
this respect. 

The missionaries were surprised to find so many 
women among the inquirers at Tay Soa, but a ques- 
tion or two made it plain. This was the result of 
Mrs. Lee’s efforts. Her talks in the homes of those 
willing to allow it had brought the natural results. 
The prayers of the good woman not only for, but 
with, her friends had been specially powerful. 
Mrs. Lee’s strong point was prayer. Her equal 
among Chinese Christians, men as well as women, 
the author never heard in China. Gifted with good 
intellect, a pleasing voice, a ready flow of words and 
beautiful imagery, being a woman of deep emotions, 
strong faith, and with a heart on fire with love for 
souls, it was almost impossible to listen to her sup- 
plications without being affected by them. 

For a number of months the missionaries and 
native preachers visited and preached in the chapel 
at Tay Soa; and then a Christian was placed in 
charge as chapel-keeper. It was this man’s duty to 
attend to the building, conduct the daily morning 


THE GOSPEL AT T AY SO A. 


291 


and evening worship, and even lead the Sabbath 
service if no preacher came. He was also expected 
to talk to the people about the gospel. 

When Choh Lin was able to be away from school 
at Amoy and visit Tay Soa, it was his delight to be 
present at these services. His heart was glad when 
he welcomed several of his old friends to the chapel, 
and his joy was great when he met his early com- 
panions, Oan and Jip. He knew that their excuse, 
that they came from curiosity, was not the only 
reason. Their eager fac£s as they listened to his 
words told more than language could that they were 
interested in the gospel. When none heard, they 
let him know that they did care about the new re- 
ligion, only they were afraid of persecution. The 
threats of the leading men of the village had 
alarmed them as well as others, and kept them from 
the place of worship; yet they were eager to learn, 
and when able asked any who knew about the 
truth. 

At last, after many months of instruction, the 
first converts at Tay Soa were baptized and admitted 
to the membership of the Church. It was not 
thought wise to organize a church at once in the 
village, so these became members of the second 
Christian church in Amoy. 

That first communion season at Tay Soa was one 
never to be forgotten by those who there for the 
first time took the bread and wine in remembrance 
of Jesus. They had found it trying before to bear 


292 


CHOH LIN. 


persecution ; they had often wished that the Chris- 
tian life were not such a hard one, but now they 
felt repaid for all they had suffered. They began 
to understand how the Lord pays back a hundred- 
fold in this life for what his people lose for his sake. 

The converts and inquirers were not all from Tay 
Soa. Several lived outside of the village, and a few 
came from the village of Ang Tung Thau, some 
miles farther north. This was a place of more im- 
portance than Tay Soa, on the way to the large 
walled city of Tang Wan, and only a few miles 
from it. The missionaries knew of this important 
city, and were anxiously hoping for some way to be 
opened that the gospel might be carried to it. The 
converts at Ang Tung Thau seemed to be marking 
out the line of that road. It needed no urging to 
induce the missionaries to try to open a chapel in 
that village. Before long this was accomplished, 
and Ang Tung Thau was joined to Tay Soa, the 
two becoming one charge in the care of a native 
preacher who lived at Ang Tung Thau, while the 
chapel-keeper remained at Tay Soa. 

As the missionaries hoped and prayed, people 
from Ang Tung Thau visiting Tang Wan told of the 
chapel and the religious teacher who lived in their 
village. So, too, people from that city learned in the 
village of the new religion, and listened to the teach- 
er, and at length asked for some one for their city. 

Ang Tung Thau soon became a very important 
station. The attendance at the little chapel grew 


THE GOSPEL AT TAY SOA. 


293 


rapidly, and was soon too large to find room in the 
building. 

u We must have more room,” wrote the mission- 
aries to the Church at home. “ More people are 
coming from Tang Wan ; and when these and the 
Tay Soa people join in the Sabbath service the 
chapel will hardly hold half of them.” 

Money was sent by the Church in America for 
building a house of worship at Ang Tung Thau, and 
as quickly as possible a neat chapel was built for the 
Christians in that village. The new chapel was 
large enough to hold all the attendants from Ang 
Tung Thau, heathen as well as Christian, and it 
could have held many more than came from Tay 
Soa, Tang Wan and the village itself. Rising 
much higher and being considerably larger than 
any other building in the village, the white walls, 
the green blinds and the straight roof of the chapel 
attracted attention at once. Within, its high ceiling, 
tiled floor and large windows not only give it a cool 
appearance, but make it a delightfully light and 
airy house of worship. This substantial chapel, if 
no misfortune destroys it, will in all probability re- 
main for half a century or more to bless the people 
of Ang Tung Thau. And yet, if the author does 
not mistake, its whole cost was only about six hun- 
dred dollars. 

Reader, few memorials are more useful and last- 
ing in results than schools and churches founded 
and built in mission- fields. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


SETTLED AT ANG TUNG THAU. 

*'YT' OW that Ang Tung Thau and Tay Soa had 
become such important mission-stations, the 
question with the missionaries was as to whom to 
put in charge of the places. 

“He must be a careful man,” said one of the 
missionaries, “ and a man who not only can see far 
ahead, but be able to manage the people without 
getting into trouble with the mandarins. We had 
better not be too fast in deciding on the man ; let 
us try our men for a while and see who is likely to 
prove the best for the field.” 

This plan was taken, and one of the older preach- 
ers was sent. For a month or more this man re- 
mained; then it was thought best to send him to 
another field even more important than that around 
Tay Soa. Another of the older preachers was sent 
to take this man’s place. He soon proved that he 
was better suited to another charge. Thus change 
after change was made in preachers at the two 
stations. 

“ I have been thinking,” said one of the mission- 
aries when the subject for a permanent preacher at 

294 


SETTLED AT ANG TUNG THAU. 295 


the two stations was talked of again, “ that we 
might try Choh Lin. I know it is near his old 
home, yet that may not be so much against him ; 
indeed, it may be in his favor. Perhaps he can 
interest some of his old friends and relatives and 
lead them to become Christians. Choh Lin has 
been a faithful and judicious man in every place 
where he has been tried, and I believe that he 
would do well in the Tay Soa and Ang Tung Thau 
region. Let us try him.” 

It was agreed to send the young preacher for a 
few weeks to those stations, with the understanding 
that it was to be only until a suitable man could be 
decided on, so that he might not be disappointed if 
not continued there. Word was sent to him to 
come to Amoy to see the missionaries. 

“ Shall I tell you what for ?” asked the man who 
gave the message. “They mean to send you to 
your old home. If you do well, they may continue 
you there ; if not, you will be sent to some other 
station. It is a hard place. The man who goes 
there must not only be able to take charge of Tay 
Soa and Ang Tung Thau, but must try to open a 
station at Tang Wan. If you can do this, the mis- 
sionaries will think you a number-one good man. 
Others of us have tried, but we have failed.” 

“ I hardly think they will send me there,” an- 
swered Choh Lin. “ I am neither old enough nor 
wise enough. Where you have not succeeded I 
must fail.” 


296 


CHOH LIN. 


When he appeared in the mission-house, Choh 
Lin was told that the missionaries wanted him to 
go to take charge of the two stations for a while 
until permanent arrangements could be made. 

“ Do you think me able to take charge of such 
important places?” he asked. “ It will be more 
difficult to do it in and near my old home than 
among strangers.” 

“Are you not willing to go?” inquired one of 
the missionaries. 

“ It is not for the servant to say where he will 
or will not go,” replied Choh Lin. “ Where the 
Lord has work for me I am ready to go : I only 
fear that it will need a far better and wiser man 
than I am to do the work. If you think me fitted, 
I am willing to go and remain there, and will do 
my very best, poor as that is, in the work.” 

“ Whether or not you remain will depend on how 
well you succeed,” said a missionary. “ You are 
able to do what we expect of you if you go in the 
strength of the Lord. It is an important field ; it 
is the key to the large country beyond. We are 
sorry to take you away again from your family, but 
until we know what is best to be done it will not 
be wise to move your family to Ang Tung Thau. 
While you are there you will be able to come to 
Amoy often to consult with us regarding your 
studies, so that you will not be altogether the loser, 
and in the end you may gain the more.” 

As Choh Lin’s family was increasing, he became 


SETTLED AT ANG TUNG THAU. 297 


more and more anxious to have a permanent home 
where he might be with his children and do more 
to train them in the Christian life. 

The missionaries had told the preachers that as 
the churches became able more pastors would be 
needed ; these would be chosen from the men best 
fitted by thorough study as well as by God’s Spirit 
for the work. The hope of becoming a pastor was 
a great inducement to them to study faithfully. As 
pastors they would not only be settled permanently 
and receive a larger salary, but their positions would 
be more honorable. The English Presbyterian and 
the American missionaries had, with the two native 
pastors and the Christian churches, formed what the 
Chinese called the “Tai Hoey,” or “ great assem- 
bly ” of churches and ministers ; this is like a pres- 
bytery. To be able to take a part in the work of 
the Tai Hoey was the ambition of all the preachers. 

After a time the missionaries determined to have 
a yearly examination of all who had any wish to 
become pastors, as well as of the students in the 
two seminaries; for the two missions were now 
uniting in much of their work. The examination 
created not a little excitement among the preachers. 
They saw that their study must not only be real, 
but such as would bear a close examination by the 
missionaries. To be stationed so near Amoy that 
they might come often to the city for help in their 
studies was the wish of every one of the younger 
men ; and when Choh Lin was told to take a charge 


298 


CHOH LIN. 


so near the city he was delighted, even though the 
charge was not permanent. He could easily bring 
his family down to Amoy, and be with them each 
week, and thus there would be at once almost as 
much of a gain as loss. The more he thought of 
the change, the more pleased he was. But, then, 
how could he succeed where others who were older 
had failed ? What should he do about Tang Wan ? 
He knew more about that city and the enemies of 
the gospel there than others did. He had not only 
heard that the mandarins and the more wealthy and 
educated people had said that the foreign religion 
should not be preached in that city, but he knew 
that they meant what they said and would leave 
nothing undone to prevent it. 

Choh Lin went to Ang Tung Thau with a deter- 
mination to do his best, and if possible prove him- 
self fitted for the field, so that he might stay. For 
some weeks he remained, doing the work so well 
that nothing was said in the mission about a change. 
There was, however, less need now of a man to 
manage the affairs for Tang Wan. The mission- 
aries hired a house in the city for a chapel about 
the time or soon after Choh Lin went to his new 
field ; so that he was relieved from a large share of 
the work and care that he dreaded. 

The story of the renting of this building need 
not be told : it was the old story of honest, persist- 
ent and quiet determination of men who believed 
themselves doing God’s work against hate, cunning 


SETTLED AT AN G TUNG THAU. 299 


and deceit. The missionaries won not merely be- 
cause they were honest, but because they were really 
wiser. Theirs was the wisdom that God gives, and 
in his strength they trusted. The enemies of the 
foreign religion were furious when they found all 
their efforts to keep the foreigners out of the city 
vain. The house was rented and the lease was not 
only signed, but had the sanction of the mandarins : 
to oppose further would be to bring themselves into 
the hands of the officials. While the mandarins 
had no more love for the foreign religion than had 
its most bitter enemies, yet they would have an ex- 
cuse to demand no small sum of money from any 
who might attack the chapel of the foreigners. 
Since the love of money in China is stronger than 
conscience or enmity to another religion, the haters of 
foreigners and the gospel contented themselves with 
attacking Christians rather than their house of wor- 
ship. As this story is of Choh Lin rather than of 
the chapel at Tang Wan and the Christians there, 
the story of their persecutions is left untold. 

A preacher was soon placed in that city, and 
Choh Lin’s work was confined to the two stations 
and the country around them. He was now told 
that he might remove his family to the house at 
Ang Tung Thau, and for the present at least live 
there as the pastor of the two places. 

Settled near his old home, with his family around 
him and preaching the gospel to his old friends and 
people, Choh Lin was a happy man. He was loved 


300 


CHOH LIN. 


by his friends, the people under his care loved and 
trusted him, and he was also a favorite with the 
missionaries. 

Though the two stations had been prosperous 
before, the coming of Choh Lin to Ang Tung Thau 
was the beginning of a new time of prosperity. 
The attendance at the larger chapel steadily in- 
creased ; so did the number of inquirers, and one 
by one these were admitted to the communion. 
Some came on foot fourteen miles nearly every Sab- 
bath to hear the gospel. The service was now held 
on the Lord’s Day at Ang Tung Thau, because the 
Tay Soa chapel was too small to hold those who 
came even after the Tang Wan house of worship 
was opened. 

The writer, who had reached Amoy a few months 
before Choh Lin was settled at Ang Tung Thau, 
spent a Sabbath at that place not long after the 
young man was placed in charge, and describes 
what he saw : 

On Saturday evening the people gathered from 
the village and some distance beyond for evening 
worship. Perhaps the visit of the young mission- 
ary attracted some, and the communion of the mor- 
row drew more than the usual number. At the 
hour for service the leader rose and read the hymn. 
At once, as he sat down, a burst of song almost 
startled the visitor. All seemed to sing, and, while 
some made their tunes as they went along, most of 
them sang the tune of the leader, and sang it well. 


SETTLED AT ANG TUNG THAU. 301 


One or two verses would not suffice: the whole 
hymn was sung, and then another followed, and 
still another. The people sang as though they en- 
joyed it and wanted to keep on. After the hymns 
came the reading of Scripture with pointed and 
practical comments, then followed a prayer, and 
then another song. After the service came an im- 
portant part of the meeting — the hand-shaking. 
While this is a custom well worth keeping up in 
American churches, more than, one missionary has 
wished that it had not been introduced into the 
churches in China. Don’t wonder, reader : Chinese 
hands are not always clean. But this could not be 
said of Choh Lin’s flock. They were the most clean- 
ly Chinese the writer has ever met. This fact was 
more evident by daylight the next morning. Each 
man, woman and child was dressed neatly and in 
clean clothing, and there was even evidence that 
some, if not all, had taken a bath. 

“ How do you manage, Choh Lin,” was asked, 
“ to make the people come to church so clean and 
so neatly dressed?” 

“ We keep the church clean,” was his reply, “and 
tell the people that they must neither bring dirt 
into nor be dirty within the house of God. I tell 
them that nothing that defileth, not even dirt, can 
enter heaven, and that if they wish to live there 
they must begin to live cleanly here. People whose 
hearts God has cleansed should show it not only by 
clean lives, but by clean bodies.” 


302 


CHOH LIN . 


“ How did you induce them to change ?” 

“ I told Christians to set the example ; and when 
one or two came with dirty clothes I asked if they 
had forgotten that God was expected with us, and 
if it would not be better to go home and put on 
their cleanest clothes, and then come back to meet 
God.” 

“ How did they like that ?” 

“ They went home and put on their clean cloth- 
ing, and came back not at all offended. It makes a 
great difference whether we want people to do things 
for our own or for the Lord’s sake. I had but little 
trouble to persuade them to come clean and neat to 
meet the Lord.” 

Before the hour of service on Sabbath morning 
the chapel was well filled. The time of waiting 
was spent in singing. One started a hymn, and at 
once all joined in. The regular service and the 
sermon were much like such services in our own 
churches. 

The communion of the afternoon was the import- 
ant service of the day : before that an inquiry-meet- 
ing was held, with probably as many as twenty in- 
quirers. Among these was an old woman of more 
than eighty years. Her form was bent, her face 
wrinkled, her eyes dim, her ears dull. She seemed 
anxious to know the truth, but unable to understand 
it. She was attentive to every word spoken to 
others, but when questions were put to her she an- 
swered, “ I am too old to understand. Go to my 


SETTLED AT ANG TUNG THAU. 303 


daughter ” (also among the inquirers) ; “ she is not 
too old. Tell it all to her; she may become a fol- 
lower of the true God. It is too late for me ; I am 
too old.” Questions were vain : they brought the 
same answer : “ I am too old. Teach the younger 
ones ; it is not too late for them.” Her daughter 
and two others were admitted to the communion, 
but the old mother was left mourning that the gos- 
pel came too late for her. 

As Choh Lin was not an ordained preacher, the 
ordinances were administered by the two mission- 
aries present. 

It had been several months since the last celebra- 
tion of the Lord’s Supper at Ang Tung Thau, and 
the Christians might well say, “ With great desire 
have we longed to eat this supper,” and still more 
might those who for the first time commemorated 
the dying love of the Lord tell of their wish to take 
the bread and wine in remembrance of Christ. 

As they gathered in the body of the chapel, fill- 
ing many seats, they presented a sight not soon to 
be forgotten. Their serious, earnest faces turned to 
the speaker were a study. Only a few years ago 
every one of that gathering, the two missionaries 
excepted, was a heathen. Every lip had prayed to 
false gods, every knee had bowed to idols, every 
one had worshiped the spirits of the dead : now 
all were followers of Christ. 

The moments flew swiftly as the missionary told 
the old, old, yet new, new story of a Saviour’s love ; 


304 


CHOH LIN. 


and when all arose to join in the song of consecra- 
tion the disciples felt that the song was far too short. 
They wished to consecrate themselves over and over 
again to such a Saviour as was their Lord. When 
the bread and wine were in silence distributed each 
seemed to be in communion with the Lord. To 
describe that communion or to tell the feelings of 
the Christians would be an impossibility. There 
are joys that are unspeakable, and there is a peace 
that passes understanding. The child of God 
knows them. That joy and peace were felt at that 
communion at Ang Tung Thau. 

When the services closed a large number of 
Christians stayed for a talk with the preacher and 
missionaries. 

“ Since the Lord has done so much for us, what 
ought we to do for him ?” was asked. 

“ We should, besides giving ourselves to him, 
do all we can to tell others about him,” was an- 
swered. 

“ Yes,” added Choh Lin, “ and that is what we 
must try to do here. We must not only tell others 
of salvation, but give our money to send the gospel 
to those who are far away.” 

“ We have not forgotten what you told us the 
other Sabbath, teacher,” said one of the people. 
“ We want to be like our heavenly Father and Sa- 
viour — give and sacrifice for the good of those who 
are far away — but we do not feel sure how much 
we ought to give. You said that we should do as 


SETTLED AT A NO TUNG THAU. 305 

the Jews — give one-tenth. Did you mean that we 
must give one-tenth before or after we buy our rice 
to eat?” 

“ Let us ask Tim Lo,” was Choh Lin’s answer 
as he turned to a cripple standing near. — “ What 
do you think of it, Brother Tim ?” 

“ I think that we should be honest with the 
Lord,” answered Tim. “ If we give him or his 
work one-tenth, we should do it before taking our 
own share. It would not be one-tenth if we first paid 
for our rice from it. Some people might want a 
great deal of rice ; what would become of the Lord’s 
work then ?” 

“ How do you give, Brother Tim?” asked Choh 
Lin. 

“ Why, if I earn forty cash a day (but I don’t 
often do it), I take out four first for the Lord, and 
say that is his; the thirty-six are mine; with those 
I buy my rice.” 

From the first the missionaries taught the Chris- 
tians that it was not only their duty to give for the 
spread of the gospel, but to support their own pas- 
tors. So decided were they in this that until lately 
no pastor was ordained and settled over a church 
until the people promised to give him a better salary 
than preachers supported by the missions received. 

Choh Lin was anxious to see Tay Soa and Ang 
Tung Thau not only prosperous, but united in one 
and become an organized church, able to call and 
support their own pastor. 

20 


CHOH LIN. 


306 

Steady progress was made in the two stations : 
the members increased in number, and so did the 
contributions. Before Choh Lin had been two 
years in charge the two stations applied to the 
Tai Hoey for an organization into a church. The 
request was granted, and from the two the church 
of “ Hong San ” was formed. But as the people 
were not able to pay enough to support a pastor, 
Choh Lin remained the acting pastor. He had, 
however, in the mean while passed the examinations 
at Amoy successfully and become a licensed preach- 
er, ready to become a pastor as soon as a church was 
able to call him. Here he might be left, but his 
story would not be complete if some of his trials 
as an acting pastor were not told. These are held 
for another chapter. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

TRIALS OF A PASTOR. 

T)ELOVED by the people under his care, Choh 
-U Lin was not without enemies. These were 
bitter against him, not so much for his own sake as 
for that of the foreigners and their religion. In 
China the gospel is hated, not so much because of 
itself as because it is the religion of foreigners. 
Such people in and around Ang Tung Thau tried 
to arouse others against the chapel, its worship and 
its worshipers. At first they had tried to prevent 
the building of the chapel ; failing in that, they 
tried to give trouble to the Christians. These ene- 
mies of the truth were wealthy and educated, and 
it is quite probable that they were secretly aided by 
the lower officials. 

As in Ang Tung Thau there were three large 
idol temples, to have a foreigners’ house of worship 
in their village was felt to be a terrible insult to the 
gods of the Middle Kingdom. After submitting 
for some time to the disgrace, as well as risking the 
anger of the gods, the devout idolaters determined 
to make a strong effort to drive Christianity from 
the village. Priests were summoned from other 

307 


308 


CHOH LIN 


places, in the hope that they could bring some 
power to drive out the gospel or induce the gods to 
destroy the chapel and frighten Christians back to 
idolatry. Among other efforts for this end, they 
built a large fire in front of one of the temples, and 
the priests, after chanting and going through a va- 
riety of ceremonies, leaped through this fire, hoping 
by their earnestness to attract the attention of the 
gods. At length the ceremonies were ended, and 
many felt sure that the chapel and Christianity 
were doomed in that place at least. Day by day 
the idolaters waited to see an earthquake destroy 
the chapel or lightning burn it down, or some other 
destruction come upon it, but they waited in vain. 
Sabbath after Sabbath the worshipers gathered ; 
they sang, they prayed, they listened to the truth 
from Choh Lin’s lips, and, like their house of 
worship, remained unharmed. 

For a while the idolaters waited hopefully, now 
and again telling the Christians that the gods would 
before long prove their power. Growing weary of 
vain waiting, the idolaters began another course. 
One day the Ang Tung Thau people were surprised 
to find posted on the buildings printed placards 
threatening the enemies of the gods with terrible 
calamities if they continued to follow the teacher 
of another religion than that of China. Christians 
were terrified, and not a few who had become in- 
terested in the gospel were frightened away from 
the chapel-services. Choh Lin and his people knew 


TRIALS OF A PASTOR . 


309 


very well that those were not meant as idle threats. 
It was no uncommon thing for a mob to attack and 
destroy a Christian house of worship, and drive the 
worshipers from the place or kill them in it. True, 
such occurrences had been less frequent of late, since, 
by treaty with foreign nations, the Chinese had been 
compelled to pay for all damage done by such mobs; 
yet there were many people willing to run all the 
risk in order to gratify their hatred to foreigners 
and their religion. 

Many and earnest were the prayers offered by the 
anxious Christians, great were their fears, yet they 
stood firm in their faith. It was a time of trial to 
Choh Lin. He did not know when each morning 
came but that that day would witness the destruction 
of the chapel and the scattering of his people. Per- 
haps night would find their bodies and his lying 
dead in the streets. Perhaps his wife and children 
would be torn from him and carried into slavery, 
and he, left houseless, homeless, bereft of family 
and friends, forced to hide as a fugitive and an 
outcast. When weeks passed and the threats 
had not been carried out, the preacher and his peo- 
ple hoped no harm would come to them. Suddenly 
they were startled by a new and an unexpected 
danger. 

The missionaries having called the attention of 
the mandarins to the threatening posters, the people 
had been warned not to molest the chapel. Not 
daring to disobey, they sought some other way of 


310 


CHOH LIN. 


attacking the Christians and frightening others from 
joining them. 

Among the inquirers was a man from a village 
some distance from Ang Tung Thau. Between 
that village and a neighboring one there had some 
time before been trouble, and considerable property 
had been stolen. That difficulty had never been 
settled. This man, known here as Lon, was now 
accused as one of those who had stolen the property. 
He was arrested and taken to Amoy for trial. He 
refused to confess himself guilty ; no proof being 
found, there was only one course for the magistrates 
— to set him free. He had, however, in the trial 
confessed himself a Christian : this made his accu- 
sers the more determined to punish him and the 
mandarins to listen to other charges. One was 
speedily brought: he was accused of taking part in 
a local rebellion fourteen or fifteen years before, and 
tried for this offence. But as there had been many 
engaged in the same rebellion, and as it had not 
amounted to anything, the mandarins dared not 
convict this man only and so long after the time ; 
therefore he was acquitted at the second trial. De- 
termined not to be defeated in their plans, the en- 
emies of the gospel told the officers that a murder 
had been committed in this man’s village and the 
murderers never brought to trial. Lon was the 
third time put on trial, now as a murderer to be 
tried for his life. Had he been convicted on either 
of the other charges, he would probably have been 


TRIALS OF A PASTOR. 


311 


executed. If proved guilty of this crime, he must 
die. 

As soon as Choh Lin learned of Lon’s arrest he 
hurried to Amoy to do what he could to aid this one 
of his flock. It became evident that not justice, but 
Lon’s death, was the object of the accusers ; and this 
not so much from hatred to the man as to the for- 
eigners and their religion. Further, Choh Lin 
learned that they hoped by killing this man to 
frighten others who were interested in the gospel, 
and perhaps drive the gospel entirely from Ang 
Tung Thau. The young preacher told the mission- 
aries his fears, and the advice and aid of the Amer- 
ican consul, Gen. Legendre, were sought. He at 
once requested the mandarins to give Lon a fair 
trial. Angry at the consul, at the missionaries and 
at everything foreign, the mandarins, instead of 
granting a trial or summoning witnesses, ordered 
the accused to be compelled to make a confession. 

Lon’s hands were held together, a close-fitting 
ring forced over a finger of each, a stick placed be- 
tween his hands, and by that he was suspended. 
For six hours he was left to hang in agony, his 
whole weight supported by the two fingers. In the 
mean while he was beaten several times and told to 
confess the part he had in the murder. Again and 
again he declared his innocence : at last he was 
taken down. 

Word of this cruelty reaching the ears of Gen. 
Legendre, he tried to prevent it, but to no purpose. 


312 


CHOU LIN. 


The next day poor Lon was put to the same torture 
and beaten more severely than before to make him 
confess guilt. Weak and faint, he still insisted that 
he had nothing to do with the murder. After being 
hung as before for several hours, he was again taken 
down and locked up alone in the prison. The third 
day he was subjected to the same torture. Hopeless 
and almost dead from pain and suffering, he groaned 
out that he was present when the murder was com- 
mitted, though he did not say that he had anything 
to do with it. This, however, was enough. He 
was taken down and again shut up in the prison. 

Meanwhile, Gen. Legendre had forced the man- 
darins to consent to a fair trial, and it had been 
agreed that Lon should be tried on the day follow- 
ing the one on which the poor man had made the 
confession. Early that morning, several hours be- 
fore the time set for the trial, the accused was hur- 
ried from the prison to the execution-ground and 
beheaded. When the time for trial came the man 
was dead and the enemies of foreigners and their 
religion had conquered. 

It was sad news to the Christians of Ang Tung 
Thau that their leader brought. All felt sure that 
Lon had been killed because he was a Christian, and 
they asked each other who would be the next vic- 
tim. Lon’s death, however, probably saved them. 
The American consul would not allow such a case 
of cruelty and the murder of a Christian to go 
by without protesting to the Chinese government. 


TRIALS OF A PASTOR. 


313 


Probably that had the effect to make the mandarins 
careful how they beheaded any more Christians. 
They, in turn, no doubt warned the people, for after 
Lon’s death the enemies of Christianity were much 
more quiet. 

For a while those who had attended the chapel- 
service, yet had given no proof of being Christians, 
remained away ; but one after another came back, 
and the number was even larger than before. 
Everything seemed to show that the Christians 
were likely to have little more persecution. 

One day a startling story was told in the streets. 
White ants, it was said, had quietly eaten the wood- 
work of all the temples, and each was ready to 
crumble. This is not an uncommon thing in China. 
These little insects find their way into the timber 
and destroy all but the outside. This is done so 
quietly and quickly that often the first sign of their 
presence is the sudden falling in of roof and floors 
of a house, leaving only the walls standing. People 
crowded to the temples to look at the ruin the ants 
had wrought. Ants were in two of the buildings, 
but the story was proven to be worse than the real- 
ity. By taking out the eaten timbers the temples 
could yet be saved. Priests came to take charge of 
the repairs, but on their examining the idols they 
made a more alarming discovery. Several of the 
idols carved from wood had been eaten by the ants. 
This was indeed a calamity to the idolaters. The 
priests at once told them that the spirits of the gods 


314 


CHOH LIN 


had left the idols and deserted the village. The 
reason was plain : the gods would not stay where a 
chapel of a foreign god was allowed. 

The words of the priests excited the crowd, and 
a fanatical idolater by a speech aroused the people 
to such a degree that they were ready for anything. 
The end might have been the destruction of the 
chapel had it not been for a shrewd old man in the 
gathering. He was not a Christian, nor did he even 
attend the chapel-service, so none suspected him of 
being a friend of the gospel. “ What kind of gods 
have we in our village/’ asked he, “if they are 
driven away by a single foreign chapel and noth- 
ing but the foreigners’ religion?” 

“ What do you mean ?” inquired a priest. 

“Gods who cannot protect themselves can give 
our village but little protection,” was the reply. 

“ They are able to protect both themselves and 
us,” said the priest sharply. “ They left because 
unwilling to stay where the people do not want 
them.” 

“ We do want them to stay,” spoke the man 
quietly, “ but we would like to see them able to 
take care of us.” 

“ They will stay if that chapel is taken away,” 
shouted the fanatic, “ but otherwise not.” 

“ If the chapel of the foreigners troubles the 
gods, why cannot they remove it, instead of asking 
us to do it ?” asked the old man. “ They can do it 
very easily, but we will get into trouble if we at- 


TRIALS OF A PASTOR. 


315 


tempt it. They certainly are stronger than we, and 
stronger no doubt than the foreign God. Let them 
show him what they can do.” 

It was useless for the friends of the gods to reply 
to this man. His questions troubled the priests and 
quieted the people. Especially did the people grow 
quiet when the man asked who would pay for the 
chapel if torn down. 

The storm that rose so suddenly soon passed 
away, and the chapel remained. The devout idol- 
aters insisted that some judgment would fall upon 
Ang Tung Thau for allowing the foreign God to 
be worshiped there. As no special calamity came, 
the temples, beyond the most necessary repairs, re- 
mained as they were, and for a time the gods were 
allowed to remain away from the village. 

But, as this story is growing too long, the rest of 
Choh Lin’s trials are untold, and with two incidents 
that are more pleasing the story will close. 

Among the new-comers Choh Lin noticed one day 
an old man, who hurried away after service. This 
continued for some time. At first Choh Lin did not 
try to speak to him, lest he should be frightened 
away, but as he came week after week the preacher 
inquired more about him. One week he visited 
the old man’s home, some miles away. He asked 
one or two of the neighbors regarding him. They 
said that of late he had given up the worship of 
idols and spirits, and, instead, prayed to an unknown 
and unseen god. Whenever he prayed, which was 


316 


CHOH LIN. 


very often, they said he first sounded a gong, and 
then kneeling down with upturned face and closed 
eyes prayed at nothing. 

Calling on the old man, Choh Lin learned that 
he had given up idolatry for the worship of the 
true God, of whom he had heard and whom he had 
learned to love in the Ang Tung Thau chapel. 

“ Do you sound a gong before you pray ?” asked 
the preacher. 

“ Certainly,” was the reply ; “ I always do.” 

“ Why do you do that ?” 

“‘Why’?” repeated the old man in surprise. 
“ Don’t you always begin worship in the chapel by 
sounding the gong ?” 

Choh Lin understood it now. The gong — one 
having a much more agreeable sound than the gongs 
we hear in America — is usually sounded in front of 
Christian chapels in China, as bells are rung with 
us before service to call people to church. The old 
man thought that sounding the gong was part of 
the worship of the true God. 

“ God does not need a gong to call him to listen 
to our prayers,” said Choh Lin, “ as the idolaters 
say their gods need to be called. The true God 
knows all that is going on in the world around and 
in our hearts.” 

“ Yes, you told us that some weeks ago in the 
chapel,” spoke the old man. “But I heard the 
gong sounded before the service, so thought that 
it had something to do with pleasing God. I want 


TRIALS OF A PASTOR. 


317 


to please him. I did not know exactly how to 
worship him, and did as others do who know better 
than I.” 

Choh Lin learned that this old man had been, 
through his preaching, led to give up idols and 
become a worshiper of the true God, and before 
long he had the pleasure of seeing him a follower 
of the Saviour and a member of the Church. 

Thus not only in but out of the chapel and out- 
side of the village did the young preacher teach 
men of the Saviour. 

In a village some distance from Ang Tung Thau, 
as well as from Tay Soa, lived an old uncle of Choh 
Lin. As a boy the latter had been a great favorite 
of this uncle. His mother had taken him, a short 
time before Mr. Lee died, to see this uncle, who was 
then very sick. This visit pleased the old man 
very much, and he remembered the boy and his 
mother as his best friends. He always held a deep 
interest in Choh Lin as he grew to be a man, and 
was ready to do any favor he copld for his nephew. 
When news came to him that Choh Lin had become 
a Christian, the old man was greatly troubled. He 
went to see his nephew and Mrs. Lee, and begged 
them not to give up the religion of their fathers for 
that of strangers. Although his advice was un- 
heeded, the old man remained a firm friend of his 
nephew. When Choh Lin became a preacher at 
Ang Tung Thau, he visited his uncle, and the two 
had a long talk about the gospel. 


318 


CHOH LIN. 


The old man was well educated and loved to talk 
and read. “ What a pity, Choh Lin,” said he, “ that 
you will remain a Christian and preach that foreign 
doctrine! You have a good education and fine 
abilities: if you would study the Chinese classics 
and take the regular course of students, you would 
graduate with great honors and become a noted 
scholar and perhaps a high officer. But, alas ! you 
follow the doctrine of those foreigners, and now 
there is no hope. You throw everything away for 
that. Yet what good will it ever do you or your 
friends ?” 

Choh Lin said that his life was much happier 
now than when he served false gods, and tried to 
reason with his uncle on the folly of idolatry ; but 
the talk seemed to have little effect on the old man, 
who was unwilling to be convinced by a youth who 
had only studied at the school of foreigners. 

Choh Lin visited his uncle as often as he could, 
and each time found him more ready to talk about 
Christianity. From opposing it he contented him- 
self with speaking well of the religion and the 
books of China. “ Those books,” said he, “ are far 
better than the books written in other countries. 
If you must teach a foreign religion, why not teach 
our own as well, and specially teach the more 
worthy truths in our books? The foreign God 
no doubt is good, but ours are better. Why not, 
then, take the best, instead of teaching the people 
to serve an inferior god? You are only helping 


TRIALS OF A PASTOR. 


319 


the foreigners to take possession of our country 
some day.” 

When Choli Lin read some passages from the 
Bible, and, comparing them with the writings of 
Confucius, asked, “ Which of these will be likely 
to do our countrymen the most good — the teachings 
of the foreign book or those of the Middle King- 
dom?” the old man was silent. 

At another time he admitted that the Bible was 
a very good book, and was willing to take and read 
it. The next time Choh Lin came the old man 
said, “ That sacred book of the foreigners is very 
good. It will do no harm, but very much good. 
It is an excellent book for some people, but for me, 
who have lived a virtuous life, the Chinese books 
are better.” He, however, did not wish his nephew 
to take the Bible away, and said that he had not 
read all in it that he wished to know. 

At Choh Lin’s next visit the uncle did not com- 
pare it with the books of China, but said a great 
deal about the Bible. “ It is the book for my fam- 
ily,” said he; “ I want my children to read it. The 
doctrines it teaches are just what they need. If they 
will read and obey its doctrines, I will not object 
even though they become Christians. That book will 
make them better men and women, and better citi- 
zens of the Middle Kingdom.” He, however, did 
not understand all, and had many questions to ask. 

At Choh Lin’s next visit the old man said, “ That 
holy book is the book for me : it has the food for 


820 


CHOH LIN. 


my soul. Other books do well for the body and 
mind, but this has truths that go to the heart. Old 
as I am, I mean to serve the one true God and give 
myself to Jesus as my Saviour.” 

There was now perfect sympathy between Choh 
Lin and the old man as the younger told the other 
more plainly the way of salvation. 

The next time Choh Lin called his uncle was sick, 
too sick to talk much, and a few days later word 
came to Ang Tung Thau that he was dead. 

“ Oh,” said Choh Lin to the author a short time 
after the uncle’s death, “ if I had only been more 
faithful in prayer as well as teaching, I would have 
more assurance that my kind and loving uncle is 
saved, but now I am not sure ; I only hope.” 

Several if not all of that uncle’s family became 
Christians after his death, and at least one of the 
sons became a preacher of the gospel. 

Here, as he was in 1870, we leave Choh Lin, 
though he is yet living and a preacher. This true 
story of his life is not unlike those of many other 
as faithful men as he was, who are giving their all 
to the work of bringing their countrymen to Christ. 
These men need help in their work. Will you, 
reader, give it? They need more foreign teachers, 
more money, more prayer. You can give the last ; 
you perhaps can give some of the second, and, it 
may be, can give the first. Will you give as you 
are able? 











